


count the rings

by lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Courtship, Devoted Reylo, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Mild Self Harm, Modern AU, Supernatural Elements, Talk of Pregnancy, a light casual detour into blood magic, background rose/poe/finn, bed sharing, brief talk of miscarriage, kind of sugar daddy vibes, properly filled out paperwork, some body horror, that awkward time when you went camping and ended up with a spouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olga_theodora/pseuds/lachesisgrimm
Summary: “Because you’re sitting there all comfy, not looking at all bridal-”“I’ll just fetch the veil out of my backpack, shall I?”“-when you could be, you know, making a move on that fine-ass tree.”In which camping comes with unexpected consequences.





	1. pine

**Author's Note:**

> "Write something really spooky," I told myself. "It'll be fun." Instead I ended up with this, which is not spooky but does involve devilish bargains so maybe that counts? Anyway, enjoy.

“-so this tree-”

“Poe, I swear to God if you’ve dragged us out here for some Blair Witch crap-”

“-_the tree,_” Poe interrupted, glaring in a quasi-playful fashion at Finn. “By which I mean that big bastard over there,” he continued, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a beer toward the looming pine not too far from their camp. “So there’s a demon in the tree, right? And the demon needs a bride to escape the trunk and do demon-y things, like- like making landfills of national parks and starting vicious medical debt collection agencies-”

Rose snorted, opening the cooler to dig out another beer. “What does his bride get out of the deal?” she asked dryly, handing a second bottle to Rey. 

Poe looked tipsily offended. “If I could finish this tale without interruption, maybe you would find out.” With a huff, he combed his hand through his hair, head held high- and then he cracked a wicked smile. “Massive dick. And deep pockets, but that’s clearly a minor side benefit.”

They all laughed at that, the sound echoing through the trees. Rey, barely a sip into her third beer, settled herself more comfortably in her camp chair. “I mean, what else does one want in a husband?” she asked in an exaggerated fashion, peeling at the bottle’s label with her thumbnail. “Maybe you could convince him to spare the parks.”

“Sex for conservation; very heroic,” Rose teased, cracking her own beer open.

Finn peered back at the tree. “D’you think he has a forked tongue?” 

“You have a spouse,” Rey pointed out. “Two, actually, no matter what the law says. Don’t be greedy.”

“You want him, then?” Finn asked. “Because you’re sitting there all comfy, not looking at all bridal-”

“I’ll just fetch the veil out of my backpack, shall I?”

“-when you could be, you know, making a move on that fine-ass tree.”

Rey took a sip of her beer, amused. If Finn wanted a show, she would give him a show- and what did she have to lose? It was only a tree, after all, and in her current state- full, comfy, and buzzed- she felt primed for a dare. _And really,_ she thought, setting her drink aside, _a tree would be an excellent husband. Constant. Undemanding. Shady on summer days._

She said none of those things. Instead, Rey jumped to her feet with, “You know me, Finn; deep roots get me all hot and bothered.”

And by God, the next time they tried to set her up on a blind date Rey would have an _excellent_ reason to decline. 

“What kind of vows do you make to a tree, anyway?” she asked idly as she approached, reaching out to press her hand against the bark. “‘I promise never to turn you into firewood’?” A thought coming to mind, Rey glanced over her shoulder. “You realize _The Giving Tree_ is a deeply fucked book, right?”

“That was never in question,” Rose replied, pulling a bag of snacks toward her. “Plight your damn troth, Johnson; I want s’mores.”

“Okay, okay.” 

Rey swept the pine a curtsy, grinning when her friends snickered. A well-timed breeze rustled through the branches. Placing her hand once more on the trunk, Rey cleared her throat and said, “I, Rey No-Middle-Name Johnson, take you, Massive Dick McDemonTree-”

“Weddings, always so classy,” Poe said from behind her. 

“-as my very lawful husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, et cetera-”

For a fleeting second the bark under her hand seemed to warm. Rey faltered. _Foolish,_ she thought. _Your mind is playing tricks._

“I will never cut you down, or introduce an invasive species to your ecosystem, or carve anyone else’s initials into your trunk for as long as I shall live, because you will probably substantially outlive me.” 

Rey drew her hand away, levity disappearing for reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “That’s that, I guess,” she murmured, more to herself that to her audience. Before anyone could say anything she leaned forward, pecking a kiss against the bark. “Voilà,” she proclaimed, the faint taste of pine sap on her lips, and turned, throwing her hands into the air. “You behold a married woman.”

Poe offered a ostentatiously polite golf clap even as Rose rolled her eyes with a smile. Finn, a half-eaten marshmallow in one hand, grinned. “Prettiest bride I’ve ever seen, except for Rosie.”

“Of course,” Rey replied graciously, returning to her chair. Pushing aside the odd wistfulness making itself at home in her mind, she sat and reclaimed her beer. “I would never expect otherwise.”

Rose held up her own bottle in an offered toast. “To the bride,” she said quietly, a gentleness to her expression. Rose, perceptive as ever, had clearly spied Rey’s soft underbelly. 

“To me,” Rey agreed, clinking glass against glass and taking a long drink. 

_To me, always alone and always tagging along._

\- - -

Two tents, and Rey reigned supreme in one. The autumn nights were cold, and her sleeping bag- a thrift-store find- was summer-weight. Even bundled up in sweats, Rey shivered as she first dozed, and then fell into a fitful sleep.

And then a not-so-fitful, blessedly warm sleep. When she woke, cozy and comfortable, there was a brief spate of seconds when she snuggled into the source of heat behind her with a quiet sigh. Solid muscle, hot breath against her neck, evident arousal pressed up against-

With an outraged shriek, Rey scrambled out of her sleeping bag, falling on her ass against the zipped tent entrance. A man blinked at her in the filtered dawn light, looking just as sleepy as she had been moments before. “What?” he asked in a murmur, voice low and honey-thick. Rey faintly heard her friends stir in the neighboring tent as her hand groped for the zipper. He patted the space beside to him, one muscled arm curled under his head. “Come back to bed.”

“Rey?” she heard Finn ask, heard the sound of feet crunching leaves. “Peanut?”

Her fingers found the zipper. Wrenching her arm upward, she turned and squirmed through the gap when the zipper snagged, dragging herself out by sheer will and panic alone. 

“What the hell?” Poe grabbed her arms, hoisting Rey to her feet. “Rey-”

He fell silent, hands tightening with bruising strength. Rose let loose a stream of remarkably graphic profanity, and when Rey twisted in Poe’s grip she found herself staring straight at her unexpected bedmate, now leaning out the opening. He looked- he looked surprisingly _protective,_ eyes narrowed and trained on Poe’s hands. Rey’s breath caught, stuttering in her throat when his gaze flicked upward. “Let go of my wife.”

A surprised, strangled laugh escaped Poe. “Your _what,_ pal?”

“My wife.” The snagged zipper tore when pitted against the man’s strength, and then he unfolded before them: tall, impeccably built, impossibly pale, and very, very naked. “Let go of my wife.” 

Poe tried to shove her behind him, but Rey instinctively dug in her heels. “The pervert stranger has a point,” she hissed, and Poe released her quickly. Glaring, Rey turned, keeping her gaze up. “Who are you?”

“Your husband.” His mouth- a good mouth, a _luscious_ mouth, but that was beside the point- quirked upward in a slight smile. “Wrong name, though, Rey No-Middle-Name Johnson.”

He spoke her name like a caress, like she were precious and wanted and-

“Yeah, no,” Rose said decisively. “Put your clothes back on and get out.”

He looked down at himself, frowning, and then he was clothed. In the space of a second, from nude to jeans and flannel. “I apologize,” he said gravely. “Such a sight is of course reserved for only Rey.”

Rey had never suffered from vertigo in her life, but at that moment the ground beneath her feet felt as level as a ship deck at stormy sea. “Smoke and mirrors?” she murmured, fists clenched. “That was… clever, but…”

He held out a hand, two rings resting on his palm. “But?” he replied softly. “But what, wife?”

As they all stared, the rings disappeared and he reached out further, fingertips grazing her cheek. “And my name is Kylo.”

\- - - 

They left. Left _hastily,_ putting out the banked fire and abandoning whatever wasn’t easy to grab and throw into the car. The stranger watched them silently, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the pine. 

“Looks part tree himself,” Finn muttered as he crammed the cooler into the back of his station wagon. “Rey, you don’t think…?”

“I _think_ he was watching us from the woods and decided to play a prank,” she retorted, barely believing her own words. “The idea that… that he’s some _mystical being_ is just ridiculous. He’s a boundary-crossing street magician, not-”

She broke off, mind moving so fast that her thoughts tumbled over each other and collided. Not magical, not telling the truth, not hers, not anything. 

A spectacular actor, she acknowledged, throat tightening as she slid into the back-seat and slammed the door shut. He would have to be, to bend a look on Rey as if she were the center of his own particular universe. 

She didn’t watch as they drove away. She didn’t look anywhere but ahead, ignoring Poe’s uneasy jokes about supernatural divorce. 

“Should we tell the police?” Rose asked eventually, looking back at her from the front seat. “I mean, he could try that trick again.”

Rey shook her head firmly, doing her best to repress a shudder. Nearly two decades had passed, but she could still remember the door bursting inward, the chaos, the noise. Keeping her voice level, she said, “No cops.” 

Rose nodded, mouth turning down in a thoughtful frown, then offered, “We could say it was me. They wouldn’t have to know that you were there.”

“Which would work right up until the moment he told them the truth,” Rey muttered. “We just… we just leave it alone, and in a year or two we’ll have a laugh about the naked guy who crept into my sleeping bag, claiming to be my husband.”

In the ensuing blessed silence Rey rubbed the fraying hemline of her sweatshirt between two fingers, huffing a quiet, annoyed laugh when she realized that her jeans and bra were still lying on the floor of her tent. She would have to find space in her strained budget to replace both.

_A wedding gift,_ she thought dryly, sure that Kylo (a fake name if she had ever heard one) would carry the items away. _May he have joy of them._

\- - -

Rey lived in an apartment the approximate size of a shoebox, in a building that had seen better days and, she suspected, had a fine colony of mold growing in hidden corners and under the dirty beige paint. It was cheap, though, which glossed over all manner of sins. 

“Do you want us to stay for a while?” Rose asked when they dropped her off. “We could watch a movie, eat the last of the hot dogs.”

“No.” Rey slung her backpack over one shoulder, keeping her tone light. “Go home; I’m going to take a nap.”

A nap, a shower, a double helping of ramen in front of the tv- all of that would reset her equilibrium in time for her double shift the next day. Everything would be fine, everything would return to normalcy.

And then she opened her door. 

“Are you hungry?” Kylo asked, stirring something in a pan far nicer than any she owned. He wore an apron the previous tenant had left behind, the words _sweet dreams are made of cheese_ written in faded script across the bib. “I hope you like chicken.”

Her backpack dropped to the floor with a thump. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Husbands and wives live together,” he answered simply, then cast a glance around the room. “I was thinking we could find a bigger place, though. Maybe with a view of the mountains.”

Logically, Rey knew that she should be afraid. Fear would be a perfectly natural response to this particular situation; by all rights she should be screaming her throat raw, alerting everyone in the vicinity. Instead, she slammed the door shut behind her, annoyance bubbling up. “You had a car hidden nearby, didn’t you?” Rey accused him. “How long have you been stalking me?”

“What makes you think I’ve been stalking you?” He sounded inexplicably offended. “We first met last night.”

“We didn’t meet last night. We met this morning, when you accosted me.” The food smelled amazing, and that just irritated her further. “And you must have been stalking me, because you beat us _here_ and clearly took a shortcut and-”

Rey stopped mid-sentence, taking in the rest of the room for the first time. “What the hell did you do to my apartment?” she asked with deadly calm. 

Every bit of furniture looked… different. Nicer. New. When she placed her hand on the back of the ancient couch, the fabric was soft and unmarred under her hand. 

“I reminded them of their best selves.” He was watching her carefully, even hopefully. “I brought back the things you left. Everything is in your bedroom.”

“How did you get in?”

“Doors aren’t an issue.” 

When she just blinked in response he waved a hand at the front door, which immediately popped open.

“Fluke,” Rey said stubbornly, slamming it shut again and flipping the deadbolt home.

“A skill.” He pointed at the door again, the deadbolt turning unaided. “We all have our specialties.” 

Rey backed up in a sudden flare of panic, nearly tripping over a stack of books. He looked so ridiculously domestic, so calm, so _normal._ “You drugged us with some kind of hallucinogen.”

“No.”

“You’re gaslighting me.”

“No.”

She hesitated, every sour memory from her foster childhood coming to the fore. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Rey had no illusions as to how a physical altercation between them would go. He was too big, too strong for her to take him down; she would be able to do some damage but it would take a miracle to knock him out cold. She should have run the moment she saw him instead of walking in like a fool.

His brow furrowed, genuine hurt flickering over his face. “Of course not.”

She sat heavily on cushions that no longer sagged. “Aren’t- aren’t there supposed to be contracts?” Rey asked desperately, cold dread creeping down her spine as she at last acknowledged the impossible. “Deals with devils are- I mean, shouldn’t I have been offered a book to sign in blood, or something?”

The demon cooking stir-fry on her ancient stove shook his head. “You made vows.” A brief pause, and then he added quietly, “The contract was mine, anyway.”

The table set itself- or rather, one moment it was bare and the next it was not. “I don’t own cloth napkins,” Rey found herself saying, peering over the back of the couch. 

“You do now. You own whatever you please.” He filled both plates, heaping hers full. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes, dark and soft, sought hers. “Will you eat?”

She didn’t move, though her traitorous stomach did growl. He moved toward her, still wearing that ridiculous apron, and stopped on the other side of the couch. “I’m not incapable of love, you know,” he murmured, cupping her cheek in one hand. His palm was warm and slightly calloused, and he smelled… nice. Not at all like brimstone. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “You- surely I’m not the first,” Rey whispered. “There had to be someone else. Poe didn’t make up that story on the fly.”

“The locals know it.” He bent down, face inches from hers. “People enjoy camping in those woods; they enjoy a good legend even more. They laugh, they pour libations on the roots, but not a one has offered their hand.”

“It was a joke.” The curtsy, the vows, the brief peck- all a joke. A fucking lark. 

“It’s like the old fae,” he answered, sounding almost apologetic. “Belief isn’t necessary.”

And then he kissed her, and it was a kiss so soft and sweet that for a moment she lost herself in the promise it held: love, and security, and the comfort of always having a hand to hold. A partner who cared for her health, cuddled with her in bed, asked about her day, and-

And she jerked away, nearly falling off the couch with the force of her movement. 

“Rey?”

She bolted, not even bothering to grab her keys or phone or wallet before disappearing out the door.


	2. willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming along on this crazy ride with me!
> 
> The wonderful, the legendary nancylovesreylo made an awesome moodboard for this fic that you can see [here](https://nancylovesreylo.tumblr.com/post/187055281114/i-made-this-for-lachesisgrimm-s-new-story). 

Rey was a very fast runner, but she specialized in short distance sprints. A quick exit had always suited her needs best, with a pace that left any pursuers in the dust, and yet now she was bolting for nearly two miles down crumbling sidewalks, barely stopping for traffic. She was gasping for breath by the time she darted into the elevator of her friends’ building, and the incredulous, almost terrified look on Finn’s face when he opened their door was justified. “Oh my God.”

“In my apartment,” Rey wheezed, stumbling past him. She dropped into an armchair, covered in sweat and chilled at the same time. “Kylo is in my apartment.”

Rose appeared wearing a bathrobe, hair wrapped in a towel. “Rey?”

“The demon tree is _in my apartment._”

Rose and Finn exchanged a look. Elsewhere a shower was running. “The guy we left in the woods,” Rose clarified. “The naked magician.”

“He was waiting for me.” Rey dragged in a breath, phrases coming out in staccato. “Cooking an early lunch. My furniture was different. He opened the door from across the room.”

_He kissed me, and I liked it._

“Okay.” Rose bent over, pulling the towel away from her hair. “_Now_ we call the police.”

Rey unexpectedly found herself laughing. “What good would that do?” Surely he would melt away the moment the cops arrived at her door, or sit in silence as they walked past him, unseeing. “There is a demon in my apartment, Rose. A dark-eyed, soft-lipped demon who looks like a kicked puppy-”

Finn raised a brow, muttering “Whoa.”

“-and says he wants to take care of me and move to a bigger place and wants to _feed_ me and-”

Rey faltered. “Honestly, it sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?” she asked after a moment, voice flat. “You did see him at the campsite, right? I haven’t been hallucinating for half the day.”

“Yeah, we definitely saw him.” Finn looked to be fighting a reluctant smile. “All, uh, all of him.”

A corner of Rose’s mouth twitched up, despite the worry in her eyes. “Hard to miss.”

Rey wrapped her arms around her middle, opening her mouth to speak- and then stopped. Carefully, she slipped one hand into the kangaroo pocket of her sweatshirt. When she pulled it back, she held a hundred dollar bill and a pearl ring.

“That was… not there before,” she said through numb lips.

Finn stepped forward, examining what she held. “At least he’s generous?”

The cash fluttered to her lap as she considered the ring. Black pearls and some kind of silver or platinum band. She probably held thousands of dollars between three fingers. “I can’t wear this at work. I’d bang it against a counter, or get bacon grease in the setting.”

“I mean, if he really is Massive Dick McDemonTree-”

“_Finn._”

“-clearly he can keep you in style.”

The shower cut off. Rose, frowning, had picked up a tablet and was typing away, damp hair tumbling around her shoulders. As Rey watched she abruptly straightened, expression blanking. “Hey, Rey?”

“…yes?”

“So… listen, we can’t see an image unless we go in and ask for a physical copy, but the county register of deeds does have an online index.” Rose closed the gap between them quickly, handing her the tablet. On the screen was a search result for Rey’s name. 

_Marriage Certificate_ \- _Rey Johnson_ \- _Kylo Ren_ \- _10/10/2019_

“_Shit._” Quietly, barely a whisper. “Fuck.” 

The ring hit the floor, and the tablet would have met a similar fate if Finn hadn’t grabbed it from her loosening fingers. His eyes widened when he took in the information at a glance. “An annulment?” he suggested, setting the tablet aside and looking desperately toward Rose. “Or an exorcism?”

“We’re throwing an exorcism?” Poe entered, shirtless and wearing only patterned boxers. He looked only mildly disconcerted by Rey’s presence. “Why?”

“Demon Tree broke into Rey’s apartment,” Finn said at nearly the same time Rose said, “He hacked the county’s vital records database.”

“I’m Rey Ren, now,” Rey said, slumping back into her chair. “What a fucking name.”

“Not until you submit paperwork, you’re not,” Rose retorted.

“You don’t know that; it’s not like I’ve checked my ID recently.” 

Poe was examining the screen, brow furrowed. “Do you have it with you?”

Rey shook her head, glum. “Left everything in the apartment.”

“Well, let’s brave the beast, then.” Poe set aside the tablet, turning to retreat to the bedroom. “We’re going to need it, to get a copy of your certificate.”

Rose followed him, leaving Finn crouched on the floor beside Rey’s chair. He picked up the ring, placing it back on her lap. “Peanut,” he began cautiously, “maybe… maybe this is good.”

Rey leveled a sour look on him. “Why?”

“It’s weird,” he said with a nod, earnest in a way only Finn could be. “Like, really weird. But there are worse things than being married to a hot man who cooks for you and slips cash into your pockets.”

She frowned. “The terrible thing is, you aren’t wrong.”

“I rarely am.”

Fighting a smile, she picked up the hundred dollar bill. “Do you think this is counterfeit?” Rey held it up to the light, both of them peering upward at it.

“Looks legit to me,” Finn- who had spent his own time in retail and food service, and had handled more than enough cash to know- offered. Rey had to agree.

“Where did he get it from?” She dropped her hand. “He’s been living in a _tree,_ for goodness sake.”

“Sounds like a question for your husband. Maybe some billionaire’s slush fund.”

“Huh.” She tucked the cash and the ring back into her pocket. “That’s the kind of chaotic energy I should encourage.”

\- - -

The apartment was empty when they arrived, though it was in the same oddly new condition she had left it in. A quick glance at the tiny kitchen showed that he had washed- magically or otherwise- the dishes and pan, with not a single drop of soy sauce or grain of salt left on the counter. The stirfry itself was in the fridge, housed in tupperware Rey didn’t recognize. 

“He’s a tidy demon, at least,” Rose said begrudgingly. “Where do you think he went?”

A good question, but rather than dwell on it Rey ducked into her bedroom, exchanging her sweats for clean clothing and tidying herself as best she could without a shower. After a moment of thought she crammed the bill into her pocket, though she left the ring in the middle of the kitchen table when she returned to the main room. The thought of carrying such an expensive piece of jewelry around made her nervous. The idea of wearing it- that fragile, delicate little piece- even more so. 

And then she found an emerald ring in her purse when she went to toss in her phone, wallet, and keys. 

“Choice is good?” Poe shrugged, looking more amused than she necessarily appreciated at that moment. Rey dropped the second ring onto the table with the first.

The county register of deeds wasn’t far, thankfully, and within the hour Rey had a certified copy of her own marriage certificate in hand, inadvertently paid for by her husband. 

“Nice of us to witness,” Rose said dryly, directing Rey’s attention to the perfect mimicry of Rose and Poe’s signatures near the bottom. “Do we know that officiant- Reverend Snoke?”

“Nope.” Rey ruthlessly folded the immaculate paper and dropped it into her purse. “So.” She considered her options, tapping one foot against the sidewalk. “I think… I’m going to go home.”

“We could come with you,” Finn suggested- more than a suggestion, really; closer to a plea- and she shook her head. 

“I can’t have you running interference for me. This is, apparently, my marriage.” Her smile was a weak imitation of the real thing. “Check in on me later? Just a call.”

In the car, Rey leaned forward after a sudden thought. “Poe, where did you hear that story?”

“Read it on the campground’s website.” He turned around in the front passenger seat, meeting her gaze. “That’s why I picked it. I thought October, spooky stories…”

He shrugged, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, Rey.”

“Who could have foreseen this? It’s not your fault.” Maybe it had been the beer’s fault, or Rey’s own desire to amuse her friends. Rey was inclined to blame the latter; her eagerness to please had gotten her in trouble before. She adopted a light, careless tone. “Plus, I get that massive dick, now, so…”

Rose snorted humorlessly, taking a sharp right turn. “You call us the moment you need help, understand? At any hour.”

“Of course.”

“Because I have that switchblade Poe gave me for Christmas. Haven’t had a chance to use it yet.”

“I’m not sure what good that would do against a demon, but I appreciate the thought.”

\- - -

Empty, still. Rey took advantage of her husband’s absence by taking a quick shower and dressing in (purposefully) sloppy lounge clothes. “He might as well get used to it,” she mumbled as she tugged a worn t-shirt over her head. She would never be the type to sit around at home all pressed and creased; he would be lucky to ever see her in leggings without holes- which made her wonder if he would get around to making her clothing ‘their better selves’, or if that was solely reserved for furniture. 

Still. She had to admit that it was nice to have chairs that no longer wobbled, and a table that didn’t need a book wedged under one leg for balance. Her mattress, judging by her brief test, was now worth more than she had paid for it, and she was fairly sure that the thread count of her sheets had dramatically increased. 

And the stirfry was good. Very good. Which made her question how a tree demon knew how to cook, but she supposed it was a mystery in line with how he had filed a marriage certificate in record time and how he kept sneaking rings into odd spots. There had been a third ring in her sock drawer- gold and rubies- and it now rested with its brethren on the table beside the folded certificate. 

“You came back.”

Somehow, between quick bites of food and _Stranger Things_ Rey had missed the door opening. “I do live here,” she replied pointedly, watching him over the back of the couch. “Where did you go?”

“Went for a walk.” He looked entirely out of place in her tiny apartment; far too large even with his head and shoulders slumped inward. “I’m sorry that I disappoint you.”

Rey blinked, caught of guard, and then set aside her nearly empty bowl. “I’m not disappointed, Kylo. Just…”

‘Surprised’ wasn’t the right word. Their situation was so far past surprise that Rey wasn’t entirely sure a word existed in the English language. “I thought the story was just a story,” she said eventually. “Not… not this.” 

He sat cautiously beside her on the couch, a lock of hair falling over his face. “What would you like?”

In their marriage? In life? “I… I don’t know.”

“If fidelity is your concern, I have no desire to stray from your bed.” There was a glint in his dark eyes that Rey wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. “I find you very attractive.”

Her blush was almost painful in its intensity. “You would say that to whoever you married.”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

He slid off the couch to his knees, settling in front of her. “Why would I?”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Rey asked warily, heart-rate picking up nonetheless. 

Kylo bent and kissed one of her knees, but kept his hands to himself. “I’m trying to court you.”

“This is how demons court?”

He smirked, slightly, but his reply sounded truthful enough. “I’m not as dark as you think. Once-”

Kylo paused. “Once I believed in demons and angels,” he murmured. “The truth is nowhere near as neat and tidy.”

Rey considered him. “Do you… do you need… sex… from me?” she finally asked, the words coming out uncertainly. “To stay free, I mean? Because if your only goal was getting out of the tree, you’ve accomplished it. You could disappear, unburdened.”

“You’re not a burden.”

That hadn’t been what Rey had meant- not exactly- but the bald statement still hit at the tender core of her. Feeling the shock echo and ripple, Rey cleared her throat. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t require sex from you,” he answered patiently. “I don’t require anything from you. My freedom has no more conditions. I could leave; I could travel the world or raise havoc or create peace or simply hole up on some mountaintop. I’m interested in you, though.” His hands curved loosely around her ankles, thumbs languorously caressing skin Rey hadn’t bother to shave in over a week. “I-”

He broke off, then began again. “What I told you this morning was true,” he said carefully. “You were the first to successfully offer vows. You weren’t the first to try.”

For a moment they were both silent, Rey’s only anchor as she digested that statement the feel of his skin against hers and his eyes- how were his eyes so soft?- trained on her. “I was there for a very long time,” he murmured. “I had my reasons for scaring seekers away… and then you arrived.”

“Just as you decided you were tired of tree life?”

“Perhaps a little. But you were the real draw.”

Rey laughed quietly, unsteadily. “Right.”

“The way you smiled, the way you laughed at your friends’ jokes. How you did more than your share of the work without complaint and without being asked. Part of the group but separate.” Kylo leaned in, releasing her ankles to cross his arms over her knees. “An island.”

“You… you are very perceptive, for a tree.”

“I wasn’t always bound to a tree. A side-benefit of my… my deal was knowledge and an unfettered mind.”

“Which is how you know how to use a modern stove.”

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Among other things.”

Rey frowned, leaning in a little herself. “Can you read my mind?”

“No. Your thoughts, your secrets are your own.” That hint of a smile disappeared, his voice shifting to something almost coaxing. “I’ll trade you a story for a story. Truth about me for truth about you.”

“Until…?”

“Until we run out of stories to tell. We’ll have at least a few of our own, by then.” When she didn’t answer he narrowed the gap between them, mouth only inches from hers. “What would you like for dinner, sweetheart?”

That all-too-earnest offer threw her even more off-kilter, and she pulled back. “I just ate.”

“I’m planning a menu. I was thinking of trying my hand at bread.”

“Bread.”

“My mother used to make bread.” There seemed to be a tinge of wistfulness, there. “When we move, we should look for a place with a lot of counter space in the kitchen.”

He stood and walked away as she took that in, feeling unexpectedly chilled by the lack of his body heat. “You-”

Rey hesitated. Of course he wanted to move. He probably had valid worries about hitting his head on the door-frame, or stooping to fit under the shower-head. “I can’t afford to move,” she said instead. 

“We can,” Kylo replied easily, pulling bread flour that wasn’t hers from the cupboard. 

“You have a credit history?” Rey asked incredulously, barely able to keep up with this entire conversation. She watched as he once more donned the apron. “You were living in a _tree._”

“People can be persuaded.” He began to wash his hands, scrubbing as thoroughly as someone about to perform surgery. “Systems. Corporations. We have an excellent combined credit score, and if you take a look at the bank statements-”

“Oh my God.”

“-you’ll see that we can afford a better place.” He rattled off the name of the bank and a username/password combo, then repeated it more slowly after she opened her laptop. 

There were a lot of digits in that bank balance. “We’re going to get arrested,” she muttered, feeling panic rise. 

“Why? That’s a perfectly legal account. It’s existed for years. There are tax returns accounting for every cent.”

“_How?_”

“Part of the deal.”

Kylo was carefully pouring a yeast packet into a glass mixing bowl, avoiding her gaze. There was something to his stance, to the set of his mouth that Rey recognized: a kind of deep, emotional bruise that lingered well past the time it should have healed. “Are you going to tell me that story?”

For a brief spate of seconds he held still, hands hovering over the bowl. “I’ll trade it for the one about your parents.”

She flinched, turning away.

They were quiet as she delved into bank statements and associated tax forms, as he kneaded dough and set it to rise. Quiet as he settled to read one of the books from her shelves and she pretended to watch more of _Stranger Things._ Quiet when he finally got up to punch the dough down for a second rise, the smell of yeast in the air. 

A knock on the door shattered that quiet.

“Hey, Rey,” Poe said with a cocksure grin, a martial glint in his eyes. Behind him stood Finn and Rose (both looking varying levels of embarrassed and resigned), as well as a man Rey had never met. “I know it’s unexpected, but I wanted to introduce you to an old school friend of mine.”

Rey’s gaze darted back to the stranger, spotting on second look a clerical collar and what looked almost like an old-fashioned doctor’s bag dangling from one hand. The man- young, maybe even Rey’s own age- smiled. “I’m Father Dopheld Mitaka,” he said, voice kind. “May I come in?”


	3. dogwood

Years of food service had taught Rey how to be polite with strangers even at her most stressed, but that skill-set failed her when faced with an unexpected priest. “You brought an exorcist?” she hissed at Poe even as she heard the clatter of something small- a spatula, maybe?- hit the floor in the kitchen. “_Poe._”

“Dop’s an old friend,” Poe replied with an innocent expression. The man in question was frowning behind him. “And I also brought wine, so-”

He tried to push past her into the apartment, but Rey held her ground. “I asked you to call. Not to show up for dinner, not to bring a priest, not to arrange for an exorcism.”

“Ah, if I may?” Father Mitaka interjected, clearly confused. “Poe said you were interested in a house blessing?”

“I mean, both involve flinging holy water around.” Poe ducked under Rey’s arm, slipping past her into the living room. “Hey, Tree, pal. Nice apron.”

“My name is Kylo,” Rey heard her husband mutter, followed by the sound of running water. 

“I’m not actually trained in exorcism,” the priest continued, giving Rey a look that was half apology and half the kind of resignation Poe had a tendency to inspire. “Why…?”

Rey sighed, stepping back. She needed to get between Kylo and Poe before the latter irritated her husband into doing something regrettable. “You can come in, but keep all the blessed stuff in your bag.”

Poe was examining the jewelry on the table when she turned, looking as if he were seconds from slipping the pearl ring onto his little finger. “Don’t,” Kylo snapped, hands clenched at his sides. “Those belong to Rey.”

“And she looks thrilled to have them,” Poe replied lazily, dropping the ring. A flicker of what might have been hurt flashed over Kylo’s face. “Rey’s never been a jewelry girl.”

“_Rey_ has never had any jewelry.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them, edged and sharp, and she felt a flush of heat on her cheeks. “I mean, I’m not used to it.” 

Had she thought about that kind of luxury? Yes. Yes, but she had never given in to the urge to buy any for herself, not even a cheap bracelet or necklace. Food and keeping the lights on had always been a priority, not adornment. 

Even so, Rey had to admit that she had a bit of a magpie’s nature about her. She liked knowing that she owned things and that no one could take them away from her, as had so often happened in her childhood. She wanted to see those rings on her fingers. She wanted-

She wasn’t sure that it mattered what she wanted. “Just leave them alone, Poe.” Rey stepped between them, her back to Kylo with only the slightest qualm. After a moment his fingertips ghosted over the skin of her upper arms, raising a shiver. “I know… I know you’re trying to be helpful, but this isn’t helpful.”

“You are always getting me into trouble,” Father Mitaka said with a sigh. “Poe.”

“Dop, he’s a demon,” Poe said with utter seriousness. “This is the kind of trouble you’re in the business of.”

Father Mitaka looked unconvinced, but leveled a skeptical gaze on both Rey and Kylo. Rey wondered what, exactly, he saw at that moment, and belatedly crossed her arms over her chest when she remembered that she wasn’t wearing a bra and that her nipples were probably evident through the fabric of her shirt. 

“He looks like a man who was not expecting a priest to wander in,” he said, and then- gaze sharpening- he focused completely on Rey. “Perhaps we should talk privately?”

It took Rey a moment to understand his implication, and she couldn’t repress her snort. “Poe meant that literally,” she informed him dryly. “Kylo’s never laid an unkind hand on me.”

Really, other than showing up in her tent naked he had been surprisingly gentlemanly about the entire situation. 

His expression turned quizzical, but he gamely looked toward Kylo. “Perhaps this is a matter best suited to a psychologist?” he said delicately, and Rey rather liked him for that. No condescension, no sneering curl of his lip. He probably had business cards in his bag for trusted references. 

“Dop, no.” Poe clapped a hand on his shoulder, bending toward him. “Literal demon. Horns and tail demon. The dude was a tree yesterday, and then Rey married him-”

Father Mitaka sent Rey a bewildered look, and she shrugged. 

“-and then he shows up doing magic and glowering.”

The priest bent his dark head, staring down at the floor. “The weirdest fucking situations,” he muttered, so softly Rey almost didn’t hear. He looked up, turning his gaze toward Rey and Kylo. “Do either of you require help?”

“Dop-”

“Because if you do, I will gladly contact whoever you need, up to and including divorce attorneys-”

“The only decent friend Poe brought to this marriage,” Rose murmured to Finn, both of them fighting grins. 

“-but I’m not going to conduct an illicit exorcism because Poe disapproves.”

Poe scowled. “I don’t think you’re quite understanding the gravity of this situation. Guys, back me up.”

Rose and Finn exchanged a glance, both of them appearing uneasy. Rey looked over her shoulder to her husband. He held himself stiffly, visible nerves- fear, or anger, or some mixture of both- evident in the dart of his eyes, the tension of his jaw, the way he scrubbed his palms against the apron. The bread dough in its greased pan was haphazardly covered. 

_He chose me,_ she thought unexpectedly. _Maybe only out of convenience, but he chose me, and he’s been kind. Sweet, even._

Rey turned, reaching out to take Kylo’s hand. He was, she finally noticed, already wearing a plain gold band. _I know what it’s like to be stuck and desperate._

“Poe just worries,” she said firmly, holding Kylo’s gaze. His fingers curled around hers, expression softening. “We’re fine.”

“Rey!”

“_Poe_.” His name echoed threefold. 

“Can’t you just throw some holy water on him?” 

“Not without permission, I won’t. It’s 2019, not 1819. I’d probably get arrested for assault.”

Rey stepped closer to Kylo, barely paying attention as Finn and Rose tried to smooth over the argument. “Would it hurt you?” she asked in a whisper, and he lifted one shoulder slightly. 

“I don’t know.” His voice was surprisingly bleak. 

“Okay.”

While Poe was distracted she snatched the bottle of wine from his hand. He owed her that much, at least, for this stunt. “Father, I thank you for taking time out of your busy day,” she said with her brightest smile, allowing her waitress training to take over. “But my husband and I were planning on a quiet night.”

His expression was one of unalloyed relief. “I am incredibly sorry about… all of this.”

“Poe’s too persuasive for his own good, sometimes.” Rey shot the man in question a sharp smile. “He’s dragged me along on a few wild schemes, too.”

“Rey’s right.” Rose looped her fingers through one of Poe’s belt loops, tugging. “The situation is… is odd, but she’ll let us know if she needs anything.”

“I’m just trying to help,” he muttered, and Finn slung an arm around his shoulders. 

“We know, dude. Dop, pizza sound good? There’s a great place just a few blocks away.”

When Rey snapped the lock behind them, it was with a sigh. For a moment she simply stood there, hands flat against the door. 

“Okay,” she murmured. “Okay.” Turning, she closed the short distance between Kylo and herself. “I don’t know how this is going to work,” Rey stated plainly. “Or if it’s going to work at all. But I promise you, I had no idea that Poe would do that, and I would never try to exorcise you or slip holy water into your food unless you turn out to be some kind of serial killer.”

He smiled slightly, so tense that she was surprised she even received that much of a reaction. “I know, and I know. I’m not… I’m not evil, Rey.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” After a moment’s hesitation she took his hand again, gently uncurling stiff fingers. “This is just… just weird, Kylo.”

“I know that, too.” He didn’t stop her from manipulating his fingers, or carefully twisting the gold band he wore. “The moment you arrived I noticed you,” he admitted softly. “No one has drawn my attention like that in… well, possibly ever.”

“I’m not used to drawing attention.”

“You have mine.” Kylo sounded utterly earnest, his deep voice like velvet. “Even more than when I was in that tree.”

It seemed too good to be true. It probably was. “Did you mean what you said, about exchanging story for story?” she said, knowing she should stop caressing his hand but not quite willing.

“Yes.”

“Could we build up to the big ones?”

“Yes.” His fingers twined with hers, pulling her closer. “May I kiss you?”

Dangerous, she instinctively knew. She didn’t quite care- or not enough to step away, at any rate. “Just a kiss?”

“A small one.” Kylo looked almost as vulnerable as she felt, at that moment, and she liked him the better for it, so much so that she lifted to her toes, kissing him first. Soft and gentle, with no attempt on his part to deepen it or take control. One strong arm did cinch around her back, and he pressed the hand he still held to his chest, but the hold felt protective. Cherishing. 

_-only known me for less than a day but maybe he’ll kiss me like this for fifty years or-_

“So.” How he managed to speak when she still felt so off-kilter was a mystery. “What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

“I’ll, uh, eat anything.” 

He didn’t step away, but instead considered her far more intently than Rey thought her answer deserved. “Maybe you’ll tell me what you like, one day,” he finally commented, more a wish than a pointed request. 

“I _like_ food.” She untangled herself from him, twitching her rumpled shirt straight. “The stirfry was good,” Rey offered after a moment. “It was really good.”

“I had forgotten what food tastes like.” His expression barely changed, but there was a warmth to his voice that indicated some measure of surprised satisfaction. “How much I enjoy a good meal.”

“What did you live on, then? Just chlorophyll?” Rey asked, intrigued, leaning against the counter as he began pulling things out of her fridge. Carrots, steak- when had she last eaten steak?- butter, delicate greens. He retrieved a bottle of what looked to be expensive red wine from one of her cupboards. Herbs she hadn’t bought, chunky red salt. Baby potatoes. 

_He might be fattening me up to eat me, but I’ll go out happy,_ she acknowledged dryly to herself.

“Maybe.” Kylo shrugged. “I just… didn’t eat, really. I didn’t need to.”

“But you wanted to?”

He retrieved two faceted crystal goblets from the cupboard. “I wanted a lot of things.”

There was a wealth of unexpressed emotion in that handful of words, and while Rey could hear the obvious- grief, guilt, a tinge of anger- how they fit together was a mystery. She held her tongue as he uncorked the bottle, poured the wine. Finally, quietly: “What do you want now?”

He placed one goblet on the counter beside her with care, seeming to mull over his options. “A life,” he murmured eventually. 

“What does that look like?”

“Meaningful days. A partner to love.” He shrugged again. “What more does anyone want?”

Rey watched the kitchen light gleam off of the burgundy liquid in her glass. “And nothing, you know, devilish?”

He gently tipped her chin up, dropping an unexpected kiss on her lips. “I was thinking of turning Yellowstone into a combination water park/recycling plant,” he told her, deadpan. 

“Very funny.”

One of his hands curved over her hip, under the shirt she wore. His thumb dragged over bare skin. “I see us accomplishing great things together,” Kylo told her more seriously. “You’re stronger than you know.”

Her mouth dry, she replied, “I’m not particularly interested in ruling the galaxy.”

He didn’t look disappointed. “A house, then? Somewhere in the mountains with no close neighbors. Me in the kitchen, and you-”

Kylo bent a little closer. “What do _you_ want?”

It wasn’t an idle question. It was obvious that he sincerely wanted to know, and Rey- who had stubbornly clung to her dreams for years- abruptly forgot every plan and plot she had ever nurtured. “I… I don’t know.”

“Think about it.” He stepped away to the sink, turning on the water to wash his hands. “I would enjoy a quiet life. I… I once gambled away just that.” An extended beat. “Honestly, I would be happy to have such an existence back.”

She didn’t know what to say. Instead, she sipped the wine, an unexpectedly wistful sigh escaping her as the taste spread over her tongue. 

They ate quietly, the silence surprisingly comfortable given the events of the day. Near the end, her stomach blissfully full, Rey stirred the small pile of jewelry with one finger. “Am I going to keep finding these in odd drawers and bags?”

He had already finished his food, and was sitting back in his chair, wine goblet in hand. “I’m hoping you’ll find one you like enough to wear, eventually.”

“And what happens when I put that ring on?” She drew her hand back, picking up her fork.

“You’ll be wearing a ring.” His socked foot nudged gently at hers under the table. “Or several. You get to keep all of them.”

“And what if I decide to quit my job and spend the rest of my life doing nothing but lying around, covered in jewels?” she asked, stabbing at her last bite of steak.

“You would make them lovely.”

Rey blinked, gaze shifting from his face to the perfectly cooked meat on her fork. “Huh.” She turned his words over in her mind. “Well, I won’t. After the first week it would probably be pretty boring for both of us.”

She wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t find life with her in general boring after a while. Maybe she would one day wake up to find him gone, with only some really nice sheets to remember him by. She ate the steak, finding that the food had lost a little of its joy.

“And I do have to work tomorrow,” she said after swallowing. “So don’t hold dinner or anything for me.”

“Very well.”

“You don’t need to stay up, either.” 

“I could pick you up.”

Rey set her fork down carefully. “Like, in a car?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have a car.”

A slight smile. “We do.”

It was a mercy that she was no longer eating, because the idea of him driving might have made her choke. _Makes as much sense as anything else,_ she thought a little dazedly. _If he can cook and conjure rings and file paperwork he can probably fucking drive._

“It’s only a half-mile or so away,” she said when she could speak. “I usually walk.”

That ghost of a smile shifted to a frown. “In the dark?”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Rey crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I know how to punch, and I used to practice escape techniques with Rose.”

“I didn’t mean to offend.” Kylo appeared legitimately apologetic, and he briefly bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

Disarmed, she muttered, “It’s fine. And there are streetlights.”

For most of the way, at least.

Not that he needed to know that.

\- - -

It took her longer than it ought to put together the fact that she only had one bed for two people.

To be more specific, it took her until she finished her night-time ablutions and entered her bedroom, where she found Kylo- shirtless and taking up an immense amount of her double bed- under the covers, reading.

“Er.”

He looked up at that awkward syllable, closing the book with one finger tucked between the pages to hold his spot. “I’m wearing pants.”

Which was thoughtful, she supposed, though the sight of his chest had temporarily distracted her from the question of whether he was completely naked between the sheets. “Do you have a shirt, or a… a cowl, or something?”

“I get hot at night,” he answered with a shrug, and she had to suppress the wild urge to reply _you appear to be hot all the time._ He patted the space next to him. “Sleep. I won’t take advantage.”

Retreating to the couch would be cowardly, Rey told herself. Also uncomfortable, and probably cold. When she pulled back the covers she caught a glimpse of black sweatpants and the soft skin of his belly before she slipped in beside him and lay back, stiff. They were hip to hip, the small size of the bed allowing for nothing else. 

“Do you want me to turn off the light?” he asked politely, the tone at odds with the heat in his gaze. 

“You can read a while longer.” She licked her dry lips, catching the way he focused on her mouth. “I don’t mind.”

“Hmm.” He seemed to consider her offer, only to set aside the book and plunge the room into darkness. “You have a busy day tomorrow,” he murmured, the surface of the mattress shifting as he lay beside her. “So do I.”

“Do I want to know?”

“I think I’m going to sign up for culinary classes.”

A burble of laughter escaped her. “I thought you already knew all of that.”

“Hands-on experience is better.”

_Yes,_ a part of her mind seemed to agree, the same part of her mind that was intimately connected to the beginnings of a throb between her legs. Hands-on, that part of her brain argued, was an excellent notion.

Rey turned onto her side, facing away from him. _It’s only been one day._

One day, and she was already in bed with him. One day, and the entire trajectory of her life had shifted- in a not unpleasant direction, admittedly.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, just above the collar of her shirt, and the shiver that swept through her was very, very agreeable. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I ever try to estimate chapter count; I am never, never right.


	4. birch

Maz’s diner had been open for over thirty years, and in that time had amassed a dedicated following. Students, families, downtown office workers, tradesmen and truckers, all sat shoulder to shoulder at the counter or in red leather booths, eager to eat their way through a meat-and-three or a veggie plate. Comfort food was Maz’s specialty, and she dished it out with a rapidity that kept Rey and the other servers hopping from open to close. 

“Eat that,” the woman herself told Rey during a brief lull at dinner, setting a plate of meatloaf on the counter. A worse night than usual, what with Chloe on vacation and Steve at home with a sick son and Anna out of town for a funeral. “And sit, for goodness sake. You look like you barely slept last night.”

_Hard to sleep when you aren’t used to sharing a bed,_ Rey thought glumly, but sat and tucked into the food with weary relief. “I’m fine,” she said after swallowing some creamed corn. “Just had a weird day yesterday.”

“Uh huh.” Maz peered at her intently through thick-lensed glasses, frowning. “What kind of weird?”

Rey took a too-large bite of meatloaf to spare herself from answering. Tsking, Maz placed a glass of water in front of her. “Hydrate,” she ordered, and bustled away to fill the next order, leaving Rey to her first uninterrupted moment of thought since arriving. 

There had been a diamond ring on her bedside table when she woke up, and another in a box of tampons, and Kylo had barely blinked when she had added them to the small pile on the table. He had just cooked her breakfast, instead, and kissed her lightly before she left, and had presumably spent the day enrolling himself in a local culinary program.

“As one does,” she muttered, pushing the bacon-laden collard greens she usually loved around the plate, distracted by the memory of him poaching eggs while shirtless.

A new rush started, and she left her food half-eaten to take orders for cheeseburgers and fried catfish and hashbrowns loaded with everything under the sun. By the time she gave the tall, thin man in a back booth a practiced smile, Rey was in the zone, the image of her husband’s chest (mostly) forgotten. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water with lemon, no ice.” He returned the smile, and it took considerable willpower not to flinch. It wasn’t malevolent, that smile, but it was somehow _off._

Still, Rey was a professional. He wasn’t her first creep, and he wouldn’t be her last- and creeps, sometimes, tipped well. 

“And the grilled chicken salad, dressing on the side,” he continued, handing her his menu. “No ring?”

She blinked, but that was the extent of her reaction. It was also not the first time someone had commented on her marital status, or presumed lack thereof. “No ring,” Rey replied breezily. “Which dressing would you prefer, sir?”

“My name is Arthur, and vinaigrette. Can’t believe no one’s snatched up a pretty girl like you, yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Rey quipped, saying “I’ll be right back with your water, sir,” as she left with perhaps just a little too much haste. Creep, just as she had thought, but he seemed to otherwise behave himself, leaving behind enough cash for his meal and a fifty percent tip when he disappeared during one of her many trips into the kitchen. Didn’t finish his salad, barely sipped the water, but money was money and-

A thought occurred. Was her money Kylo’s, now? Was his truly hers? If she squirreled away her tips and pay against the day he (maybe, possibly) left, would that be a betrayal?

A disgruntled woman snapped her fingers in her direction, breaking Rey from uneasy musing. “So sorry,” Rey said, flustered. “How can I help?”

The flow of orders carried her through to closing, to mopping and refilling napkin holders and balancing the register, and straight to a knock on the locked door. 

“We’re closed!” Maz shouted from across the restaurant, credit card receipts in hand.

The knock came again, and Rey looked up from refilling salt shakers, her hand bobbling and spilling granules everywhere when she realized who stood on the other side of the glass door, directly under the light. 

“He’s handsome,” Maz commented, raising a brow at the mess. “Never seen you overcome by good looks, before.”

“I, uh, know him.” Rey carefully set down the large container of salt, brushing her hands on her apron. “That’s, um… well.”

“Is he dangerous?” Maz asked, slipping off her stool. 

“What? No.”

“Then I’ll let him in while you figure out what he is.”

The height difference between Kylo and Maz was almost laughable, but Rey’s boss merely looked up at him, lips curved into a slight smile. “You’re a bit late for dinner.”

“I’m just here to walk Rey home.” Kylo’s gaze darted around the diner, his expression reading as intrigued rather than dismissive. “Ma’am.”

“_Really._” Maz inexplicably sounded delighted. “And how do you know Rey?”

“I’m her husband.”

The silence that fell, brief as it was, still seemed to last an age. “You’re not my first waitress to marry unexpectedly,” Maz said finally, “but perhaps the one I’m most surprised by.” She reached up, motioning at him. “Let me get a better look at you.”

When Kylo bent down she took his chin between thumb and forefinger, examining his face so closely that Rey half expected her to check his teeth. “Can’t blame you for falling for such pretty eyes, my girl,” Maz said. “What’s your name?”

He looked a little uncomfortable under such scrutiny, but still answered. “Kylo. Kylo Ren.” 

“Of course it is,” Maz replied, not bothering to hide the tinge of gentle doubt in her voice. “Now, you need to know that if you hurt my Rey, I’ll come after you with a knife.”

A corner of his mouth twitched up. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I used to butcher pigs on my father’s farm; blood doesn’t bother me.”

“I’m sure your technique is exceptional.”

“It is.” Maz released his chin, and then patted him on one cheek. “Let me have her for just a minute more, and then you can take her home.”

Maz took Rey by the elbow, pulling her into the kitchen. “Do I need to be concerned?” she asked quietly.

“No, no.” Rey could feel herself blush, half-baked explanations running through her mind. “It’s just a long story, and a little odd.”

An understatement. Maz nodded, looking unconvinced. “Was it a shotgun wedding?”

“No, I’m not pregnant.”

Could she get pregnant? Could demons sire children? Could-

“Hmm. Well, then.” Maz pulled out a handful of cash, tucking a portion into one of Rey’s pockets. “Congratulations. Go home and climb that man like a tree.”

“_Maz._”

“He looks like- how did my granddaughter put it?- a gentleman in the streets, and filthy in the sheets? Or something like that.”

“I- he- we-”

“Let me know if I have to do any butchering.” Maz steered her out of the kitchen, expression indicating that she was now more amused by the situation than anything else. “Don’t bother cleaning up the salt. Kylo, take our girl home for some rest, and you stop by sometime soon. I like watching handsome men eat.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he picked up Rey’s jacket, holding it so that he could help her put it on. “I like to eat.”

Maz’s laughter followed them out to the sidewalk, where Kylo took her hand and flashed her a slight smile. “How was work, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to come.” 

Though it was nice, having a hand to hold on a chilly night, even if Maz’s words had reminded her once again of the kinds of things he could do with those hands. 

“I know. I thought about bringing the car, but-”

His tone turned to sly humor. “-I got the impression you didn’t like the idea of me driving.”

“You were in a tree for- for what? Fifty years?”

“Over a hundred.”

Rey stopped in her tracks. “Really?”

“The years start to blend together, after a while,” he replied after a moment, quiet. “You lose track of time. Everything is just… just slow and meandering, just rainstorms and wind and sunlight and snow. The occasional travelers.” He swung their joined hands gently between them. “And finally, you.”

She worked to say something, anything, and managed, “And you want me to let you behind the wheel?”

“I drove today. I even obeyed the speed limit.”

Rey began to walk again, frowning. Eventually she asked, “When?”

“1886.”

“Oh.”

That was all she could muster. The questions she wanted to ask- how? why? are you even human?- would require her hardest story in exchange, according to their deal, and she wasn’t quite at that level of burning curiosity. 

Yet.

\- - -

“What do you think?”

Bleary-eyed, Rey did her best to focus on the screen in front of her. “Is that the newest ipad?”

“I guess? I meant the house, Rey.”

It was a real estate listing with a price that threatened to make her jaw drop. Ten acres of mostly virgin land, including what looked like an established garden and small orchard. Gray stone exterior. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms; a kitchen like she had only seen in magazines. 

“That’s a lot of square footage,” she pointed out in lieu of screaming _that’s a lot of money._

“More room for the children.”

She choked on her sip of coffee, hot liquid spilling over the rim of the mug onto her hand and the table. He made a quiet noise of concern, handing her a dish towel. “Or not,” he amended in a mutter. “But there’s room for you to do practically anything, there.” A pause. “Do you not want children?”

“Two days ago I was single; I need to get used to marriage, first.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can you… complete your side of the equation?” Rey asked hesitantly. “For a baby?”

He had stepped away to retrieve muffins from the oven, and at that question he held still, brow furrowing. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted slowly, and Rey felt an obscure pang of guilt.

“Not that we couldn’t get that checked,” she hurriedly said. “It’s not like _I’ve_ been checked. And we already know that you can get an erec-”

Rey stopped mid-word, blushing when Kylo smirked. “I’m not worried about consummating the marriage, when you’re ready,” he murmured, opening the oven door. The scent of brown sugar and dates wafted out into the room. “As to the other, it seems as if the options for birth control have expanded since I last walked the earth.”

“Uh. Yeah.”

She scrolled through the pictures a second time. It was like looking into another life, and one she had never expected to have. Could she be happy, there, in that kitchen? In that living room, curled up with a book under a lap blanket? In that master bedroom, which could easily fit a king-size bed? 

If they moved, and he disappeared, what would happen to her? Would it all disappear into smoke, money, house and all?

He set a plate in front of her: muffins, bacon, and eggs, steam rising into the air. “Sweetheart?”

Why that endearment suddenly struck so hard Rey was unsure, but-

“I’m not, you know.”

“What?”

“Sweet.” She fiddled with her napkin. “I… I was like a feral goblin, as a kid. I could never get along with anyone. I was a terror.”

Kylo knelt beside her chair, one hand curving over her knee. “Why?”

“Just a bad seed.”

“I don’t think so.” 

“You didn’t know me.” She blinked back tears. “Passed from home to home, only carrying what I could fit in a duffel bag, only… well. They were right to want me gone.”

Her childhood had been a frenzy of emotions. Too guarded, too hopeful, too clingy, too angry- so much of Rey had been described with _too too too_ in her official file. It was a miracle that she had emerged into adulthood intact and without a criminal record. 

“My mother used to compare me to her father,” Kylo said softly. “He was… he was a troubled man, and I wasn’t an ideal son. But children are children, Rey. Not set in stone, not their parents- or grandparents.” One arm looped around her waist, expression so open that she had to fight the urge to slip off her chair to the floor, further into his hold. “The adults who rejected you were fools.”

Finn had said the same, when she had finally mustered up the courage to confess. At the time she had shrugged, making a weak joke that at least her foster parents had never fed her after midnight. With Kylo she bit her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, lest every tear she had brutally repressed over the years make an appearance. 

“You didn’t have to be so kind to me.” He had a way of murmuring that made her want to bend close and run her fingers through his hair. “You could have stabbed me in my sleep, or dumped holy water on me, or told your employer that I was a wife-beating bastard. You are sweet, Rey.”

“I was swayed by steak,” she mumbled, and heard a brief, quiet laugh escape him.

“Of course you were.”

“I could have been. Feral goblins love steak.”

“My wife loves being taken care of.” He cupped her cheek, tilting her face toward him. “Don’t you, sweetheart? At least a little.”

Rey swallowed painfully, throat tight. “Has anyone told you that you’re kind of a bastard?”

Kylo nodded with every indication of seriousness. “A few times.”

“Fucker.” She turned her head away from him, back to the comforting sight of a full plate. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave. Here.”

“Until?”

“Until I know.”

One large hand rubbed her back soothingly as he processed that statement. “Very well,” he said eventually. “There will be other houses.”

Rey picked up her fork, hand shaking slightly. He waited until she had taken several bites before moving away to fill his own plate, settling on the other side of the table a minute later. 

“Is your name really Kylo Ren?” she asked, breaking the silence with the taste of cinnamon on her tongue. 

“It is now.” He crumbled a bit of muffin between his fingers. “I was born with another name. I’m not that man, anymore.”

Names, Rey knew, were a fraught topic. There had been no record of her existence when she had been thrust into the foster system, no birth certificate or vaccination records to give a hint as to her actual identity. Her five-year-old self had been able to provide a first name, but not a middle or last.

_And Rey could have been a nickname,_ she thought for not the first time. _I could have been my mother’s ray of sunshine, or Rey Ann or Arabella or-_

Or anything, really. She could have been anybody, but now she was Rey No-Middle-Name Johnson, and if he had chosen the name Kylo Ren, who was she to be dismissive?

“Okay.” She intentionally shrugged, picking up a piece of bacon. “It’s a good name.”

“Do you think so?” Kylo sounded almost shyly pleased. “I… I just couldn’t claim that name again.”

Rey nodded. “Do you think you’ll tell me, one day?”

He was quiet for so long that she had given up waiting for an answer- and then, “Ben.” He forked up a bite of eggs, eyes downcast. “My parents named me Ben.”

“And I’m married to Kylo?”

He looked up, the set of his mouth firm. “You are.”

“Would you like more coffee, Kylo?”

He had that vulnerable look again, the one that begged for kisses and soft words. “Please.”

Rey topped up his mug, with room for cream, and they finished eating in peace. 

\- - -

A ring a day, or so it seemed, and at some point over the next week the handful of rings shifted from the kitchen table to the one at her bedside, gleaming metal and gems heaped in a delicate porcelain bowl. 

“Is this going to keep up if I ever put one on?” Rey asked curiously one night, peering into the glitter, and Kylo’s arms wrapped around her from behind. 

“How could I resist giving you lovely things?” The kiss he pressed to the crook of her neck tickled, and he pulled her back onto his lap when she squirmed. “Though I could be persuaded to slow down, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m merely concerned about storage.” Rey let her eyes slip closed as he nuzzled that same patch of skin with his nose, instinctively tilting her head to the side to give him better access. “We would have to… to, uh, build some kind of ring shed.”

She probably shouldn’t let him hold her like this. She probably shouldn’t let him kiss her good morning and good night, she probably shouldn’t let him keep picking her up from work and charming her boss, she probably should shove him away when he inevitably cuddled her in his sleep. 

_Should, should, should, should._ An unexpected whimper escaped her when he licked a trail up her neck, and she could practically sense his grin. “Don’t be bad,” she muttered, but didn’t make an attempt to pull away.

“Very well.” Another nuzzle, one that made her sigh. It had been a long day, one made longer by a bus full of teenage baseball players pulling into Maz’s parking lot a half-hour before closing. Kylo had ended up waiting at the counter for over an hour, working his way through chicken and dumplings and peach pie with every evidence of quiet delight- and then, while Rey had allowed herself a mumbled snit over the piss-poor tip left by the harried chaperons, he had helped bus the tables and mop the floor.

_Turns out I’m weak for a man who mops; who knew._

She had added the day’s tips to the battered envelope in her underwear drawer, the last party’s stinginess balanced by Arthur the Creep’s generosity.

_He’s going to become a regular,_ Rey thought with resignation. _At least until Maz tosses him out for trying to cop a feel._

“If,” she began, “I accept your offer to fund my dreams, will you promise not to interfere?”

“What do you mean?”

Rey opened her eyes, looking down at his left hand where it rested over her abdomen, the gold of his ring gleaming in the light of the lamps. “I want to go back to school, but I don’t want you to pull any tricks to get me past the application process. And I want to take whatever classes I please.”

“All right,” he agreed easily. “I never had any intention of making you seek my approval, Rey.”

“I know.” And she did, but she had also needed to make that point clear aloud. “When I was in high school I read every book on history in the school library, even the parts that didn’t quite interest me. I wanted to major in it, maybe even go on to a masters or doctorate program.” Had practically hungered for the chance, poring over the offerings for every college and university in and around Jakku. “Everyone told me that it wasn’t practical, that it would be a waste of money and that my GPA wasn’t good enough… and they were right. My last foster father expected me to put in long hours at his garage, and between that and school and homework I was just… just _exhausted,_ all the time, and my grades showed it.”

Kylo’s embrace tightened slightly. “Studying history sounds like an excellent use of _our_ money,” he told her. “And even if you don’t want me bypassing the application process, I’m happy to move somewhere else.”

She felt a flutter of hope. “The local university is a good one. If I do this, I’d rather try and start there… maybe audit a few classes if I’m not accepted the first time around.”

“That’s a good plan.” He shifted them a little, just enough to kiss her softly. “Your name is on the accounts, you know. You can start using that money whenever you like, on whatever you like.”

“Maybe someday.” She held his gaze. “Do I get a story, now?”

“Hmm.” Another kiss. “I also studied history, though a particular branch.”

“What was your focus?”

His crooked smile was rueful. “Local. I grew up near the place where you found me, in Chandrila. It was smaller, then, but still considered to be the largest town in that part of the state.”

And now it was a metropolis, but that was secondary to what else he had revealed. “So you _are_ human.” 

“I was. Maybe I still am. Disappointed?”

“Relieved, to be honest,” she teased lightly. “I was a little afraid you were hiding horns and a tail, like Poe said.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, and then he took a deep breath. “Years before I was born, a fad for spiritualism swept through the community, led by a self-declared medium named Bastila Shan.”

Rey frowned. “That name sounds familiar.”

“She was very popular in England until people began accusing her of fraud.” His tone turned dry. “The same thing happened in Boston, Philadelphia, eventually Chandrila. She died in San Francisco before her reputation could catch up with her.”

Rey’s inner history nerd perked up. “Fascinating.”

“That, and personal. She stole the bulk of my grandfather’s fortune in less than a year.” He looked, suddenly, very tired. “My mother never liked to talk about her father. I found out about him through schoolyard gossip and spying on the servants, and then one day I found his papers. My mother had hidden them under a floorboard.” Kylo paused, then whispered, almost to himself, “Hard to believe she didn’t burn them.”

“Curiosity is natural,” Rey offered quietly. “I-”

_I searched police reports and newspaper microfiche and broke into locked filing cabinets and would do it all again to find even a shred of information about myself._

He kissed the tip of her nose when she fell silent. “It is, and I was. When she found those papers in my room she was furious.”

“She sounds…”

Rey tried to find a way to word it delicately. “Difficult.”

“At the time I thought so, but in retrospect she was right to be worried. My grandfather… changed… when his wife died. It was an accident- a stray shot from a hunter in the woods- but he had loved her dearly, and grief made him desperate. Bastila preyed on that, and even after she left town in disgrace he kept trying to contact his beloved Padmé.”

“Who did he contact instead?” She shrugged when he gave her a startled look. “I’m married to a man who was stuck in a tree for over a century, Kylo. Clearly there are forces at work in the universe beyond the ones I once believed in.”

“Fair. And you’re right- he contacted someone, something, that claimed to be my grandmother. In the last years of his life he grew erratic. Dangerous, to himself and others, including his children.”

“And that’s another story?”

Kylo’s eyes were shadowed. “I think so.”

“Okay.” She kissed _him,_ that time, because he looked to be in need of reassurance. “Thank you for telling me.”

_And something in those papers landed him here, with me,_ she mused as they settled under the covers. _Something dark and cunning, something tricky._

And one day, he would tell her.


	5. buckeye

“I admire you.”

Rey gave Arthur her brightest, most unconcerned smile as she refilled his water. “Hmm?”

“It takes a great deal of bravery to forge your own path without relying on handouts from others.” He smoothed his gold tie, his saddened expression almost too perfect. “My niece- sweet girl, and so incredibly bright- married a man who promised to pay her way through medical school. Never happened. His business went bankrupt, and she had to leave school to keep them both afloat.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

The build-up, Rey thought. He wasn’t the first would-be sugar daddy she had met; any minute now he would transition into _a brave girl like you deserves better than working yourself to death in a diner._

He shook his finger at her in warning. “Never rely on a man. Any man,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle, and she hid her confused frown. “Too many of us are cads and bounders.”

“Thank you.” Rey wanted to include a questioning lilt at the end of the phrase, but resisted the urge. This… this was not the usual pitch. 

“Better to determine your own life than wake up one day to find yourself caged in by a man whose promises fall flat.” He winked. “My tips, however, are honest.”

Odd. Very, very odd- odd enough that when Rey was left with a nearly forty dollar tip after his customary disappearance, she pressed Arthur’s money on Steve. “Put it toward that Switch Theo wants,” she told him over protests. “You know I love that kid.”

Steve raised a brow, perfectly smooth bills in one hand. “I also know that you’re facing a rent increase in a few months; don’t think I’ve forgotten how you grumbled about it.”

Rey shrugged, trying her best to project unconcern. “I’ve had some good luck, lately,” she said blithely. “And- quite frankly- the guy gives me the creeps. Take it.”

“Do you want me to cover him, from now on?” Steve tucked the cash into his pocket, looking as if he had weighed the pros and cons of arguing with her and had decided not to make an attempt. “I don’t mind.”

“He probably won’t tip you as well,” Rey replied dryly. 

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to put up with him.”

Rey hesitated, tapping the counter as she thought. “Actually, would you? He’s just… he’s just a dark spot on otherwise good days.”

“Not a problem.”

The relief- and it was a surprise, how intense that relief was- gave her a buoyancy and cheer that lingered for the rest of the evening. When the bell over the door jingled as she was rolling silverware near close, she was able to beam at a slouching Poe.

“Hey, Rey.”

“Hi, stranger.” She pointed at the stool on the other side of the counter. “Sit. We still have some blueberry pie, if you want a piece.”

“Please.” 

He sighed happily when she placed the pie in front of him, vanilla ice-cream melting into the crust and filling, but he didn’t look quite as pleased as he usually did when presented with one of Maz’s excellent desserts. “I came to apologize.”

“Because Rose and Finn made you?”

“I mean, a little bit, but also because I was wrong.” Poe had a bit of a kicked-puppy quality about him, at that moment. “I was worried- still am- but I shouldn’t have gone straight to the big guns without asking you, first.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Have you ever been given a scathingly gentle lecture by a priest? Dop is scarily good at it.”

“I can imagine.” She picked up his untouched fork, holding it out to him. “Eat your pie, Poe. You’re forgiven.” Rey smiled, returning to rolling silverware. “And it was kind of sweet. Ill-advised, but sweet.”

Poe nodded, loading up his fork. “Is everything okay?” he asked hesitantly. “I know you’ve talked with Rose and Finn a few times, but all they’ve told me is ‘she’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine’.”

Which was basically all Rey had told them. It hadn’t and didn’t seem right, somehow, to dissect the situation over the phone; it needed pizza and wine and privacy. Finn would focus on the practicalities, and Rose would come right out and ask about sex, and neither were conversations Rey wanted to face sober and using a cell as an intermediary.

“I am fine.” Her hands stilled. “He’s… he’s really kind, Poe. He seems to genuinely care about me.”

“He’s not, um, taking advantage of you?”

Rey laughed. “Honestly, I might be taking advantage of him. He’s rich, he cooks the most amazing meals, he keeps leaving me gifts, and never once has he insinuated that I owe him anything.”

“Saint Tree.”

“Poe.”

“Okay, okay.” 

The silence that followed as he ate and she worked was a comfortable one- and then the bell rang again, and Rey looked up to see her husband cross the threshold. Her mouth curved into an irrepressible smile, soft and eager and a little shy.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Poe muttered, tone one of fond resignation. He twisted around, one arm resting on the counter. “Hey, Kylo. Can I treat you to some pie?”

Kylo’s expression was definitely skeptical, but he nodded slowly, taking the neighboring stool. “Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Hi.” The breathless note in her voice was unexpected and a little annoying. “Apple, blueberry, or lemon meringue?”

“Lemon, please.” He slanted a look at Poe, large hands pressed against the countertop. “Dameron.”

“Ren. You look good in clothes.”

Rey snorted, cutting a larger slice than normal. The words were certainly true- Kylo wore his black leather jacket and black jeans very, very well- but they had been spoken with a teasing edge. “Poe.”

“I’m not wrong, Rey.”

“No, you aren’t.” She set the plate in front of Kylo, feeling more protective than the situation really warranted. “He’s very handsome.”

Kylo flashed her a look of appreciation that threatened to make her melt, but it disappeared when he picked up his fork. “Still planning on exterminating me?” he asked Poe in a measured voice. “You’ll have to get Rey’s permission, first.” 

“I came to apologize, though I’ll keep that in mind.” Poe dragged the tines of his fork idly through purple-veined melted ice-cream. “I overreacted. I mean, you have to admit that this whole situation is weird-”

“Is it?” Rey asked innocently.

“I thought you would be more open-minded,” Kylo said in a similar tone, a hint of dark amusement in his eyes when he briefly met Rey’s gaze. “Marriage can be so many things, after all.”

“Right,” Poe confirmed cautiously, clearly aware that he had been dropped into the middle of a minefield.

“Two people, or three, as in your relationship, or- occasionally- a woman and the tree demon to whom she has plighted her troth.” He ate a bite of pie, the merest glimmer of bliss passing over his features. Rey doubted Poe had even noticed the shift. “Right, Sweetheart?”

He wasn’t a demon at all, but Poe didn’t need to know that at this point. “I have evidence that points to yes.”

“I get it, I get it.” Poe pulled out his wallet. “Listen, we want to have you both over for dinner. We get to know Kylo, he gets to know us, we all get a little drunk and play board games.” He considered Kylo seriously. “Are you aware of the concept of board games?”

“I think I can figure it out.”

“Just keep in mind that Rose plays a cut-throat game of Monarch; she’s deadly.” He dropped a twenty on the counter, waving a hand before Rey could ask. “Keep the change. Next Friday?”

“Yes?” Kylo shrugged when she glanced toward him. “Yes.”

“See you then.”

After, an extra ten dollars and change tucked into Rey’s pocket (that extravagant tip, at least, she would keep), they walked home hand in hand under a moonlit sky. 

“You think that I’m handsome?”

Rey looked up at the stars, smiling even as a wave of shyness swept through her. “Very.”

He squeezed her hand, and then- when they were home, and the door was securely locked- he kissed her lingeringly up against a wall until she was breathless. 

\- - -

“Tell me why you like history.”

Rey studied her spoonful of crème brûlée, pleasantly relaxed after a lazy day and just a little tipsy. “Because it’s full of people like me.” All those minor characters, unnamed and on the fringes. “Queens and kings, explorers and invaders… they’re all fascinating, but they’re just set pieces. People we’ll never know sowed the fields, kept the trade routes running, had children and taught them how to fish and salt meat and make preserves. They’re just as important as those who made the world-altering decisions, even if no one writes books about them.” She ate the bite of silky-smooth custard and caramelized sugar with satisfaction, leaning against him on the couch. “Why did you search for your grandfather’s papers?”

He made a soft, thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “Because my mother compared me to him one too many times, and I wanted to know why.” 

“What was your conclusion?”

“That she was probably right.” Kylo wrapped an arm around her shoulders, huffing a rueful laugh. “I ended up in a tree.”

She scraped the last bite from her ramekin as she mulled over those words, searching out every smidgen of cream and sugar with her spoon. “Was it worth it?”

He was quiet, _so_ quiet, and for so long that she began to regret ever asking. “I’m not sure I can answer that question.”

Rey had to force herself to put that last spoonful in her mouth, no longer quite as interested in dessert. 

“Because the deal turned against me, you see,” he continued. “And in unexpected ways. I thought I had outsmarted the maker, but I hadn’t, and then I had years alone to contemplate every foolish mistake.”

_This isn’t a judgment on me,_ Rey reminded herself, forcefully pushing aside the feelings of _not enough_ that his answer had initially inspired. _I don’t know what happened, and I can’t expect to take the place of whatever and whoever he lost, and it would be unkind to both of us to suggest otherwise._

She set aside the spoon and ramekin, picking up the hand that rested on his lap. “You’re not alone now,” she said instead, twining her fingers with his. The gold of his band was warm against her skin, and a part of her lamented that she didn’t match.

He pulled her closer, lifting their joined hands to his mouth. “Neither are you,” he replied with heart-rending sincerity, lips brushing against her knuckles. 

_I’m going to give in,_ she thought suddenly, mind formulating into words what she had been feeling for days. She was a city under loving siege, and she would fall to his full mouth and soft eyes and absolute willingness to feed her until she felt ready to hibernate. 

Exhaling a shuddering sigh, she snuggled into his side. “Did you know,” she murmured, “that you still smell a little bit like pine?”

“Do you mind?”

“No.” She was still holding his hand, and she didn’t want to stop. “Are you going to age with me?”

“Yes.” 

There was a disheartening tinge of uncertainty to his voice. She shut her eyes against tears, clutching his hand tighter. “Okay.”

\- - -

“Honestly, you’re overdue for a good siege,” Rose said when Rey confessed her realization in a mumble during an impromptu shopping trip. She rifled through the rack of winter coats, eyes sharp and focused. “Especially from a man like that. Day one, admittedly, was not great, but-”

She pulled a dark red coat from the rack. “-but I’m open-minded, and _you_ look marvelous.” She thrust the coat- and _God,_ that price tag; why had Rose picked this store?- into Rey’s arms, then added one in black. “Glowy. Hopeful. Your hair looks amazing.” 

“I’ve been using his hair stuff.”

“And I bet he loves it.” Rose moved on to another section as Rey trailed behind her. “The same way Poe looks when I use his, or Finn gets handsy when I use his soap.”

Rey looked away, blushing. Kylo did, in retrospect, seem to enjoy smelling her freshly washed hair when she gave in to the lure of expensive product. “Maybe.”

“Are you sleeping together?”

There was no one near them in the store, but Rey still poked Rose’s upper arm with one finger. “Quiet.”

“You haven’t answered.”

“Define ‘sleeping’.”

Rose cast an amused glance in her direction, but lowered her voice. “Are. You. Fucking. Him.”

“No.”

“I thought not.” Rose began draping sweaters over one arm. “You’re still walking, for one.”

“_Rose._”

“I’ve seen his dick.”

“Oh my God.”

“Do you like this better in blue or green?”

“What?”

Rey realized the trap she had been lured into just as Rose said, “Your husband has enlisted me in his dastardly schemes. We’re outfitting you for the winter.” When Rey sputtered Rose rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t hard, you know. Your clothing has more holes than even fashion allows.”

“I-”

Rey looked down at the plush wool coats she held, uncertain. “He could have just done his ‘best selves’ trick,” she muttered, unable to deny the pleasant warmth she felt in her chest. _My wife loves being taken care of,_ he had said, and it seemed he was right, or at the very least the sensation was still novel enough to charm. 

“Why bother when he could buy you cashmere instead?” Rose leaned in, voice low. “And I _know_ you love soft fabrics, Rey. You get all guilty pleasure about it.”

“You are way too perceptive for my comfort,” Rey told her sourly, not bothering to deny the assertion. “I didn’t bring the card.”

“Kylo slipped it to me before we left.” Rose added several camisoles to her stack. “Clearly he recognizes in me the soul of a conqueror; a woman of impeccable taste who gets things done.”

“Maybe he should have married you.”

“But alas, I am wed. Besides, he would never look at me the way he looks at you.” Rose’s firm expression gentled, and she bumped shoulders with Rey. “Smitten. Protective. Hungry. A very powerful combination, and I don’t think it’s an act.”

Rey reached out, rubbing the thin fabric of one sweater between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t either,” she admitted quietly.

“Then let’s make the man happy by spending a lot of money.”

Cashmere and wool, silk and soft organic cottons. The total nearly made Rey blanch.

_New rule,_ she told herself as the card reader read _approved_ to the delight of the sales clerk who likely worked on commission. _All indulgent purchases require an equivalent donation to a charity._

That, at least, made her feel a little better- and as they were on their way out of the store, loaded down with bags, she spotted something: an apron that read _Kiss The Cook_ in cheerful cursive script, pretty little flowers twined around the letters. 

“Doesn’t look like your style,” Rose noted, curious.

“It’s not.” She could practically see Kylo wearing that apron, though. She had the sense that he would like it, and not just out of fondness for her. 

Rey paid for it with a handful of crumpled bills out of her own tips, and then let Rose drag her off to look at shoes. 

\- - -

“You could have asked.”

Kylo looked up from his book, expression a blend of smug and sheepish. “Would you have accepted?”

Rey looked at the impressive pile of bags in their living room. “Probably not.” She tucked her hands into her pockets, sighing a little when her fingers brushed against smooth metal. Pulling the new ring out- rubies and gold, this time- she allowed herself a small smile. “But thank you. For this, and for the clothes.”

She put the ring back into her pocket and then dug through the bag closest to her, ripping off the portion of the tag with the price before pulling out her gift. _Should have wrapped it,_ she realized belatedly. _Oh, well._ “I did get you something.”

His looked shyly pleased as she approached. “You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I did anyway, and… and I didn’t use your money.” An admission rife with implication, and judging by the look in his eyes he recognized that fact. Feeling more than a little vulnerable, Rey unfolded the apron and held it up for his inspection. “For when the other is in the wash,” she said softly. “I thought it might be useful.”

He looked as if she were offering him something far more valuable and rare than a clichéd apron, and in a sense, maybe she was. “Thank you.” Kylo met her gaze, setting aside his book. “Do you think you might?”

“What?”

“Kiss the cook.”

Rey blushed, but- thinking on Rose’s words; on the coat she had worn home, the warmest and nicest she’d ever owned; on her own desires- she knelt on the couch, straddling his lap. His hands settled gently on her hips. “I’ve already done that a few times.”

“Twenty-eight.”

She blinked, understanding coming a beat later. “You’ve been counting?”

“I’m hoping to eventually lose track.”

The apron was crumpled between them. “Do you want me to fall, Kylo?” Rey asked, feeling her walls weaken further.

He barely hesitated. “No.” He brushed a kiss over her lips- twenty-nine- eyes understanding. “I just want to be let in.”

Not sieged, not subjugated, just… just a beloved citizen. Like Rose and Finn and Maz and Poe, but in a completely different category.

_I could do that._

Rey kissed him softly (thirty), snuggling into his embrace. “I’m… I’m very fond of the cook.”

“That’s a good start.” He ran a hand through her hair, gathering her even closer. “I’m exceptionally fond of you.”

Thirty-one, and thirty-two, and thirty-three, and- by the time the lights were cut off, and her ear was settled over the steady beat of his heart- forty-four.

_I’m screwed,_ she thought again.

But this time, she wasn’t afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose is also likely a complete beast at Love Letter, in which you, too, can test friendships in twenty minutes or less.


	6. persimmon

It was too late to apply as a full-fledged student for the spring semester, but auditing was an option and- thanks to the practically new credit card in her wallet- Rey was soon the proud owner of unmarred textbooks for the first time in her life. No highlighting, no doodles from previous students, no notes or aggressive underlining. All crisp and perfect, and all hers. She clutched the weighty bundle to her chest on leaving the bookstore, nearly cradling the volumes like she might a child. 

Kylo waited by the car- a sleek black vehicle that had rendered Rey speechless the first time she saw it- though he leaned against the driver’s side door as opposed to the passenger, drawing glances from nearly everyone who passed. “You look thrilled,” he said with a small smile, uncrossing his arms. “I’ll drive home if you don’t want to put those down.”

“Was this just a very elaborate plan to get behind the wheel?” she teased, an absolute bounce to her steps. New books, soft denim hugging her legs and comfortable shoes on her feet, thin cashmere slipping over her skin. At that moment she felt practically invincible. 

“Yes.” Deadpan, though he still smiled. “I set up one of those boards with red string. It took days of plotting.”

“Hmm.” 

“You can’t possibly think I’d ever knowingly put you in danger.”

“No.” The truth, and she swayed a little closer to him until they were nearly toe-to-toe. “At this point I’m just greedy about driving that lovely car.”

He huffed a laugh, raising his hands to cup her cheeks. “Are you hungry? We could stop for lunch on the way.”

“Yes.” 

His first kiss landed on the tip of her nose, the second on the corner of her mouth, and the sun was shining and the air smelled sweet and she knew that she rested on the cusp of something wonderful and unexpected and unspeakably precious. 

“But,” she continued when his thumbs stroked over her cheekbones, raising warmth in her belly, “I do want to look at my new books. So.”

“So.” A kiss right between her brows. “I promise to obey the speed limit.”

He did, and far more closely than Rey herself tended to do. She found it difficult to focus on her new prizes with him beside her, maneuvering the car confidently as they left campus and headed downtown. Man out of time he might be, but he drove as naturally as if he had been born to it.

It was, Rey had to admit, distractingly sexy.

But then, everything about Kylo pinged ridiculously high on her attractiveness meter. His utter competence in the kitchen, his generosity, the way that hint of pine clung to his skin and seemed to catch in the sheets. Every morning that she was fortunate enough to wake before him was both a blessing and a temptation; the way he looked in sleep made her long to run her fingers through his rumpled hair and nibble at his earlobes until he stretched awake and pulled her on top of him. 

_He’d be overjoyed if I made a move. I could put on one of those rings and crook my finger and it would be done. I’d never have to sneakily masturbate in the shower again after watching him walk around in only those low-slung pajama bottoms._

It was sinful, the way he looked in those thin pants. Even when he wore an apron over them as he prepared breakfast.

Perhaps especially when he wore an apron. 

_I might need to buy him a closet-worth of aprons._

“Can I ask you a question?” Rey asked after he had effortlessly parallel-parked outside a restaurant she had heard rave reviews for but had never expected to enter.

“Of course.” He held the keys in one hand, gaze focused on her. “You can ask me anything you like.”

“Were you married? Before?” When his eyes widened she shrugged, plucking at the hem of her sweater. “You just seem… practiced.”

Kylo considered her for a long moment, a flush of pink washing over his cheeks. “No.” His jaw clenched, and then he added, “I was betrothed.”

“Oh.” It shouldn’t have felt bruising, the idea of him with another woman, but some selfish part of her did worry about having a husband who pined for a lover long dead. “I’m sorry. That…”

“That I’m here and not there? I’m not.” He looked away, hair falling over his face. “I’ll tell you over lunch.”

“Okay.” 

_You did ask,_ she told herself as they went inside, one of his hands resting against her lower back. _You could have let it lie, but no._

Kylo waited until they had both ordered and received their drinks before beginning. “Her name was Kaydel O’Connix,” he said quietly. “We had known each other since childhood, and we were friends. Her father had a field that my father wanted, and neither of us had siblings, so… so everyone found it sensible, to join our families and lands.”

Rey stirred her lemonade with her straw, watching as strawberry pulp blended into lighter liquid. “And that’s it?”

He seemed to be examining the tablecloth closely, fingertips stroking over the weave, and murmured his answer. “She betrayed me. I think.” 

Rey felt a chill creep down her spine, and she carefully set aside her glass to lean forward, forearms on the table. “What do you mean?”

“I knew the terms of the deal before I accepted it. Accept a spouse, leave the tree. Seemingly simple, but Sn-”

He stopped abruptly. “The dealer has a way of making things complicated, but I didn’t know that at the time. I made a plan with Kaydel: I would allow myself to be bound to the tree, and the next day she would come and marry me.” He paused, then continued in a tone that hinted at old scars. “But she didn’t. She never came, and I don’t know why.”

She reached across the table, resting her hand palm up on the surface. “I’m sorry.”

A slight quiver to his lower lip, he settled his hand over hers. “I was angry for a very long time,” he admitted in a whisper. “Though it wasn’t… it wasn’t why I chased off all comers before you. It didn’t help, but…”

“You… you seem the type to throw yourself into everything whole-heartedly,” she began carefully. “I think you would have stayed with anyone who freed you.”

“I’m not _that_ self-sacrificing.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “My tree never asked anything of me. There are worse places to be than a healthy pine.”

“And if someone had come to chop it down?”

He shrugged. “That would have been interesting.” 

The server arrived with their appetizer, pretty little piquillo peppers stuffed with goat cheese. After she left Kylo said, “Out of everyone who passed my resting place, from deliberate seekers to ignorant hikers, you were the only one I wanted. The only one I want.”

Rey took in a breath, body warm and restless. “I’m still getting used to being wanted.”

“I know.”

She ate one pepper distractedly, the flavor wasted on her, and then said, “But that wasn’t your why.”

“No.” He slipped an extra pepper onto her plate. “You’re not ready to share your why, yet.”

“No, but… but I’ll offer a story in return.”

The second pepper tasted better, and the buttered bread extraordinary. “It’s a very ordinary story,” she murmured, holding the last bite of bread between two fingers. “My first boyfriend. Or sort of boyfriend. I was sixteen. He charmed me. I was an idiot.”

Charmed once, and now charmed again, and the stakes were much, much higher. So much rested precariously on the man who sat across from her, and in the last day or two Rey had finally recognized that financial security was the least of it. She had been poor once, and could survive being poor again. If her education was indefinitely postponed a second time, she would grimly keep her eye on that horizon. The loss of Kylo himself, and the shattering of her fragile trust and every bit of sweetness she felt toward him- that would be harder. It would, Rey suspected, be bitterly painful. 

“But I didn’t get pregnant, and I didn’t catch anything, and when he told everyone it was a lesson.” The last bite of bread was sawdust. “I never made that mistake again.”

“I’m not a mistake.”

_The furthest thing from a mistake._ “No, you’re not.”

“And I would never tell.”

“Who would you tell?” Her tone shifted cocky, as though they were talking about something light and meaningless. “The trees?”

Kylo smirked. “Terrible gossips, trees.” And then his expression softened, and under the table one foot slid up beside one of hers. “I’m going to stay, and I’m going to keep your secrets, and I’m going to love you.”

The word might have floated through her head, but neither of them had said it so directly. She dropped her hands to her lap to hide the way they shook. “Do you want to go back to Chandrila?”

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “To find answers? Yes. To live, no.”

“I’ll ask Maz for some time, then.” And in the meantime she would think, and think hard. “When our food comes can I try a bite of your lamb?”

He relaxed. “Yes… and when you know your schedule, I’ll make arrangements.”

“They’re going to be ridiculously extravagant, aren’t they?” 

“I have dreams of bathing in a tub that actually fits me.”

She snorted, amused and trying to hide her more lascivious interest in the idea. “Okay.”

\- - -

Midway through Rey’s next shift, Steve inexplicably slipped while carrying a full coffee pot, hot liquid and glass splattering across one corner of the diner. He refused to let anyone send for an ambulance, despite his burns and injured wrist, but he did allow himself to be driven to the closest Urgent Care by one of the dishwashers. The remaining staff cleaned up the mess and remade meals that had been in the splash zone, comping more than a few for frazzled customers who had no inclination to wait a second time for their food. 

Arthur did not ask to be comped, and with everyone swamped by the abrupt reshuffling of responsibilities he was once again Rey’s problem. “Pity about that young man,” he said when she delivered a fresh glass of water, and pushed a folded twenty to the edge of the table. “Keep that for him, would you?”

It was a kind gesture, but Rey suspected ulterior motives. Still- because money was money- she tucked the bill in a separate pocket from her own tips with a nod. “I’ll see he gets it. Do you want your usual?”

“Please.” He seemed to be considering her more intently than was customary, his lips pressed into a thin line. “But quickly.”

_We’ve just thrown off his schedule,_ she thought as she entered the order, more uneasy than usual at the sight of displeasure from a customer. _Or maybe his coat was stained, or-_

But then Maz gave her an odd, slyly amused look when Rey picked up the appetizers for table seven. “You may want to adjust your top.” She tapped her own shoulder when Rey frowned, uncertain why her shirt’s momentarily lopsided neckline mattered. “Your husband left a memento.”

Understanding caught up in a flash, along with memory of that very morning: Kylo cozying up behind her while she washed the breakfast dishes, his mouth working at the skin of her shoulder until she had breathlessly reprimanded him for nearly making her break a plate. 

Not that she had cared about the plate. The plate meant nothing, but she had been an inch away from calling in sick and doing something irrevocable and it was the first excuse she had thought of. 

“I remember when my husband used to send me off to work with love bites,” Maz said with a dramatic sigh as Rey, flustered, straightened her shirt, doing up an extra button for good measure. “Right up until the day he died, bless his soul.”

Chewie had passed years before Rey began working at the diner, but his picture still hung in the kitchen and barely a week went by without Maz telling one story or another. Rey had heard enough to be unsurprised by that particular bit of information, but wished it had come up in a less personal context. “I’m sorry.”

“About Chewie, or about tall, dark, and handsome marking you up?” Maz winked, stirring a pot of chicken noodle soup. “Don’t be. Enjoy it.”

Arthur’s booth was empty by the time Rey returned with his salad, but he had left two things: another twenty, and a note in handwriting befitting a manuscript-illuminating monk. 

_What if you could have your heart’s desire?_

There was a split-second when Rey felt caught by ink on paper, every particle of her being both lured and repulsed by the well of promise and power those words seemed to represent- and then the moment passed, and she made a mental note to eat something the next time orders slowed because her blood sugar had clearly dropped below acceptable levels. 

But she did, for reasons she couldn’t explain to even herself, use a paper napkin to pick up the note before chucking it in the trash, and the next time she crossed paths with Anna she tucked that twenty right into her apron pocket.

\- - -

“Did you mean to give me a hickey?” 

Rey tried to sound accusing, but it was difficult to do so when she was boneless on the couch, one foot in Kylo’s hands. He raised a brow, appearing unapologetic. “You liked it.”

He was certainly correct on that score. “Maz saw.”

“Did she congratulate you?”

She tried to repress a smile and failed miserably. “Kylo.”

The way he was massaging the ball of her foot excused all manner of sins, which was probably the only reason why she let his response of “I’ll be more discrete, next time,” pass without comment. 

Because there would be a next time, apparently. 

_Probably. Almost certainly. Definitely._

“She said I could take next week off,” Rey said instead, eyes half-closed. “Steve should be back by then, so I won’t be leaving her short-handed.”

And Maz seemed to think that this getaway was some kind of late honeymoon- _not_ the impression Rey had meant to give- which had led her to immediately erase Rey’s name from the schedule with a fair dose of teasing and loving innuendo.

“I’ll make reservations.”

_Reservations with a big tub and a luxurious bed and would it be morally sound to seduce my own husband while we uncover his painful history because I really don’t know._

Not that she was one hundred percent decided on the matter of consummation. It was just a feeling, a hunch, and maybe he could leave his next batch of love bites on her inner thighs and he would go back to sleeping naked and Rey would finally get a chance to nibble on his earlobes like she wanted.

_And maybe I die of old age and he still looks young when they put me in the ground._

But that same future might come even without consummation, so why should it affect her decisions?

“Are you worried about something?”

She blinked sleepily and told a different truth. “One of the newer regulars. He’s a little unsettling.”

Kylo picked up her other foot, a slight frown turning down the corners of his mouth. “Can I help?”

“No.” Rey let her eyes close with a soft sigh. “He’s harmless, just… just odd. Has his eye on me, but I can handle it.”

He was quiet for a long moment. When she opened her eyes slightly she saw that his expression was one of carefully restrained anger and concern. “You’ll tell me if I can do anything?”

“Of course.” She shut her eyes again, obscurely pleased by his response. Anger on her behalf was a rather refreshing experience, and she liked it the better for being held in check. “You bet.”

At some point he tucked her into bed, but all Rey would remember was the vague sense of being carried in strong arms before she fell asleep entirely. 

\- - - 

Something about the diner felt off. Sticky. Blurry. It was all rush and auto-pilot and Arthur’s talk about how _only blood family can be trusted_ and Rey hated, hated-

“Beginning to think we’ve been hexed,” Maz said at one point when they realized that one of the fridges had been below temp all night. She grimly adjusted the menu as Rey tossed item after item into the bin. “Steve, that burner dying, all this waste.”

And the blender going on the fritz, and the garbage company failing to pick up trash for no good reason, and a stalled car blocking the entrance to the parking lot for two straight hours during the usual dinner rush. 

“Maybe Mercury is in retrograde.”

“Maybe we need to burn the place down and start new,” Maz grumbled. “Call in a young priest and an old priest.”

“That sounds a bit extreme.” Lettuce and greens, all wilting and soft, one after another.

“It isn’t. I’ve been here for decades, my girl, and something is rotten in this particular Denmark. Even you’re a little dazed, and I don’t think your husband is to blame.”

Rey thought Kylo was daze-worthy when only kissing was on the table, but Maz had a point. “Do you…?”

“Cancel your vacation and I’ll whip you,” Maz replied with a savage scrawl of her pen on paper. “You never take time off. Let that man pamper you into oblivion.”

“I-”

“Don’t argue with me, young lady.”

Rey blinked, a hunk of weeping cheddar in one hand. “Okay?”

Maz looked as if her own words and tone had just registered. “I’m sorry, Rey. It’s just been…”

“A weird week.”

“Yes.”

“But I’ll go.”

“You should.” The set of Maz’s shoulders relaxed, as did her grip on the pen. “If I could have one last getaway with Chewie… I would take it. Go, and enjoy yourself.”

Rey ducked her head into the sour-smelling fridge, glad to have the excuse of reaching for an out-of-the-way container of milk so that she could hide the gratitude infusing her expression. “Okay.”


	7. sourwood

_“I just think you can do better. You don’t have to settle, sweetheart.” Her mother refilled their coffee, a stray lock of graying hair falling over her face as she pinned Rey with a serious, concerned look. “And you have to admit that this is all moving very quickly.”_

_Settle. Rey turned the word over in her mind, unsure why it sounded so off, why her parents’ kitchen seemed oddly two-dimensional. “He’s sweet,” she replied, voice coming out flat and tinny._

_“Sure, he’s sweet now, but some men get a ring on your finger and you become a chess piece.” Her mother grimaced, tapping too-sharp nails tinted red on the counter. “And when the world crashes down, they make sure you take the brunt of the impact.”_

_That didn’t sound like Kylo at all, but when Rey opened her mouth to defend him not a whisper of sound came out._

_“You know I’m right, Rey. He’ll use you up until you’re only a shadow.” Her mother looked up as the overhead light flickered, and when Rey followed her gaze she saw that cracks were snaking along the ceiling. “He’s tearing this home apart.” _

_She couldn’t speak; could only watch the ceiling crumble overhead._

_“Send him away and stay here, where you belong.”_

_The sound that escaped Rey’s throat bordered on unearthly._

_“Rey. Sweetheart.”_

_The kitchen ripped at the seams, all plywood and flimsy construction paper and-_

_“Rey.”_

\- - -

“Rey?” Hands cupped her face. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

Shivering, she opened her eyes to the warm glow of the lamp, Kylo leaning over her with naked panic on his face. “There you are,” he murmured, pulling her into a sitting position and gathering her close. She went without complaint, every bit of her chilled. “Do you have nightmares often?”

Not since he had arrived, and none like that. “Did I wake you?”

“You punched me in the side. Don’t apologize,” he added before she could reply, catching the way her eyes widened in horror. “It wasn’t a hard hit; barely a tap.”

“Still.” She attempted a self-deprecating smile. “Bad form.”

“Shh.” One hand smoothed down her rumpled hair, the repetitive motion easing her shivers. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No.” She wanted him to call her ‘sweetheart’ again, wanted the endearment in his voice only. “It was just… just…”

_Just my mother at an age she never reached; just a magazine-perfect kitchen that we never owned._

Just something she had longed for, and for so long, turning against her, and yet a corner of her foolish heart still clung to the less-terrifying aspects of that dream. How often had she thought _what if_ about her parents? How often had she imagined herself part of a normal family, with a normal family home as a gathering spot instead of a pair of paupers’ graves in the desert?

“Sweetheart, let it go. I can practically feel your mind buzzing.”

With a sigh she rested her head against his chest, forcing herself to take in deep, even breaths until she reached a semblance of calm. “Kylo?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Little by little he was returning her hair to order, gently combing out snarls with his fingers. “Just let it die, whatever it was.”

A difficult task, even with that life already dead. 

\- - - 

“Sleepless nights?” Rose asked archly as she poured Rey a glass of wine. “Your concealer is fighting a losing battle.”

“Nightmares.” Three beyond the first, and each enough to wrench her and- twice- Kylo from sleep. Walking with her parents through a park, the ground rocking underfoot. Her parents piling gifts under a burning Christmas tree. Her parents admiring an ornate diploma, a doctoral hood as heavy as an anchor around Rey’s neck. All terrifying and all alluring and all seeming to suggest that she could have the best of that, but only if Kylo weren’t there holding the match or weighing her down or destabilizing the very earth. 

And it was ridiculous, and it was unkind, and the only thing that calmed her after each nightmare was curling into his side and letting his warmth lull her back to sleep.

“I was hoping you would have a nicer reason,” Rose replied sympathetically, topping up Rey’s glass further. “They’ll pass. Sometimes I have spells like that, too.” 

“I hope so.” Determined to be cheerful, Rey forced a smile. “What smells so delicious?”

“Paella.” Rose looped an arm around Rey’s waist companionably. “I’m going to massacre your husband in the tabletop arena.”

Rey wasn’t quite so sure about that, but if anyone could it would be Rose. “He might surprise you.”

“He’s a pine; what the hell do pines know about board games?”

A lot, as it turned out, or perhaps Kylo just had a knack.

“I’m going to sweep the market.”

“The _fuck_ you are,” Rose said, outraged. “All you have is three gold; you can’t afford to buy shit.”

“The current market just seems a little stale.” A corner of Kylo’s mouth turned up, indicating the ghost of a smirk. “Don’t you think?”

“I _think_ that my turn is next and you know that I have my eye on the Radiant Dragon.”

“Do you?” 

Rey, Finn, and Poe watched the exchange avidly, sharing a bowl of popcorn between them.

“This is what I get for going easy on you in the early rounds,” Rose muttered, glaring as Kylo dropped three cardboard coins into the bank and gathered up the cards available for purchase. When he laid out the replacements, all land improvements and culture cards, she hissed through her teeth. “I’m going to take you down.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

She glanced toward the bookshelf holding a variety of games, frowning thoughtfully- and then suddenly grinned. “Unless.”

It did not take long into the next game (Kylo won, but only by two points) for Rey to understand the import of that ‘unless’.

“We’ve made a grave error,” Finn said. 

“A fatal one,” Poe agreed.

“Now, now.” Rose’s smile was sharp. “Three against two is more than fair. Technically you have the advantage.”

“‘Technically’, she says, as if they aren’t running rings around us in the lab.” Poe looked to Rey. “Sharks, both of them.”

“They can never be allowed to team up again.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Kylo still wore his ghost of a smirk, though Rey had no doubt that he was enjoying himself. “If you get infected in the field I’ll cure you.”

“Rose would just let us rot,” Finn muttered to Poe, who choked back a laugh.

The pair trounced them soundly, leaving Rose- who was never a sore loser, no matter how savage a player she might be- in an exceptionally cheerful mood as they tidied the games away. 

“We’re going to be good friends, Kylo and I,” she said as she sorted tokens into their proper bags. “I hope you decide to keep him.”

“I think I want to,” Rey admitted in a whisper, listening as her husband talked with Finn and Poe in the kitchen, their words obscured by running water. “Can we talk, Rose? Privately?”

“Of course.” Abandoning the table in semi-disarray, Rose stood and held out her hand. “Come on.”

When the bedroom door was closed Rey sank down onto the floor, her back against the foot of the bed. “Was it easy, deciding to marry Finn and Poe?”

“No,” Rose answered immediately and without any surprise, sitting beside her. The three diamonds on her engagement ring sparkled in the light. “Not because I doubted them, and not because I didn’t love them, but because it required being very, very open with a number of different people, including my parents.”

Rey had attended the wedding- which technically, in the eyes of the law, had been between Rose and Finn- but could only remember Rose’s parents as being warm and supportive. “They seemed fine with it.”

“Now they are. I’m pretty sure Mom bought a copy of every single book in the ‘so your child is in a committed triad’ genre.”

“Are there a lot?” 

“One shelf’s worth, the last time we visited.” Rose smiled crookedly. “I was scared, Rey. Incredibly scared- but I was tired of lying by omission. I was tired of telling my family about only Poe and never Finn. We, uh-”

She paused, then continued in a lower voice. “Before we decided to marry, there was a month when my period was late. It turned out to be nothing, but… but all I could think was ‘how do I explain if the baby doesn’t look like Poe?’” Rose took in a shuddering breath. “And I _hated_ that. Because I _do_ want a baby with them, one day, and my first thought shouldn’t have been frantic worry about what other people might think.”

Rey took Rose’s hand, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rose. I shouldn’t-”

“Don’t apologize. You’re my friend, and I’m honestly surprised that I’ve never told you this story before.” Rose laughed a little, twining her fingers with Rey’s. “It was hard and awkward for awhile, but now my parents love them both. My mother asks when we’re going to give her grandchildren. Paige punched one of our cousins in the nose when he said that we were going to hell. It all worked out.”

“Except for the cousin.”

“He’s always been a priggish bastard; I wasn’t surprised.” Rose grinned. “But the look on his face when he landed flat on his ass and my father told him to never return- my God, it was great.” She squeezed Rey’s hand. “So, one unorthodox bride to another- spill, Johnson. Something has tripped you up on the path to marital bliss.”

Rey smiled weakly. “Unorthodox?”

“I have two husbands, you got yours from a tree. Neither situation is exactly standard.”

“True enough.” Rey took in a breath, looking down at her lap. “The nightmares I mentioned… they’re all about Kylo tearing my family, my birth family, apart,” she said carefully, the words sounding absurd the moment she said them aloud. “My birth family no longer exists, but… but…”

“But you’ve spent years wishing for what could have been,” Rose finished quietly, and just the fact that she was clearly listening without judgment bolstered Rey’s courage. “Of course you have.”

“When I was a kid I sometimes thought that maybe… maybe it had been a bad dream and they would show up one day. And now it feels almost as if a door is closing when I look at the rings.”

And why now? Why, when she was so close to just throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself a chance at happiness?

_My brain is a jerk._

“He’s still leaving those for you?”

“I must have nearly three dozen by now.” Some delicate, some flashy, some that were obviously so expensive that wearing them in public would draw the attention of every thief within fifty miles. “Sometimes I just want to pile them all on my fingers and toes and jump him.”

“I mean, that sounds like a valid plan.” Rose patted their joined hands. “Rey, that door is already closed.”

“I know.”

“And the version of them you want never existed in the first place.”

A tear slipped down her cheek despite her best efforts. “I know that, too.”

“So you don’t have to choose between your parents and Kylo,” Rose continued in a practical, kind tone. “You just have to decide if you’re going to choose Kylo.”

Rey considered that statement, licking her dry lips. “You would have made a great therapist,” she said finally.

“I prefer bestowing my wisdom on only the deserving few. And you are.”

“What?”

“Deserving.” Rose squeezed her hand again. “You’re deserving of a fucking lot.”

\- - - 

On her last shift at the diner before vacation, Rey somehow managed to mix up the orders of two different large parties, douse boxes of low-fat sweetener packets with a pitcher of water, and ram her knee hard against the counter. Limping, just a little, she went to take Arthur’s order with veiled ill-grace. 

“So what do your parents do?” he asked, examining his menu as if for the first time.

Patience worn thin, she almost snapped her reply. “They’re gone.”

Arthur eyed her with an expression of condescending forgiveness, like that of a disappointed mentor. “No one’s ever really gone, my dear.”

It should have sounded like some idle platitude.

It didn’t.

It sounded like an offer. It sounded like doors that had been long locked opening once more, and the rewinding of time, and history erased and rewritten; it brought to mind her mother with graying hair and her father with white in his beard and a kitchen that crumbled like plaster and a life that had never contained foster placements or police reports.

And then Rey blinked, wondering why she felt so terribly fuzzy, her mind gone blurry at the edges.

“You should sit down,” Arthur told her, her skin prickling at the sound of his voice. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She practically stumbled into the kitchen, where Maz pressed a cool cloth to her forehead and made her eat a bowl of soup.

\- - -

Maz must have called Kylo, because he pulled up in the car not too much later. 

“You go home,” Maz told her firmly. “Anna’s here, and we can handle anything thrown at us.” She lowered her voice. “Pick up a pregnancy test tomorrow, hmm? I nearly fainted a few times when I was carrying my daughter.”

“I’m not pregnant,” Rey mumbled.

“Just in case, my girl. Nothing’s foolproof but abstinence.”

_Well, guess what, Maz._

“Your customer at table three left this for you,” Anna said, holding out a ten and a five, balancing a tray on her other hand. “He barely ate a thing.”

“Never does.” Rey waved off the cash. “You finished taking care of him. You keep it.”

Anna shrugged, not looking particularly concerned one way or another. “Okay.”

In the car Kylo examined her face carefully, a small crease between his brows. “Do you need a doctor?”

Slumping back in the cushy passenger seat, her body sapped of energy, Rey glared at him and practically growled her answer. “No.”

He didn’t say a word in response to that denial; instead he simply ran a hand over her hair and- a tic in his jaw- started the car and drove her home, where he drew her a bath and made her a cup of tea.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a robe and feeling more than a little ashamed of her reaction to his perfectly natural question, she found him packing a suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

She hadn’t intended for that edge of panic to limn her words, but there it was and he had obviously heard it and her- her?- neatly folded shirts fell haphazardly from his hands into the open suitcase. “Packing for Chandrila,” he told her, drawing her closer. “Sit down, sweetheart.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he added jeans and pajamas and underwear, handling the latter as if he did so every day. “We’re not leaving until Monday,” Rey pointed out, relief battling with confusion. 

“I think we should leave tonight.” When she made a quiet noise of surprise in the back of her throat he settled on his knees in front of her, capturing her hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened? Maz said you looked like someone had punched you in the stomach.” He was angry at whatever had upset her, that much was clear, but he kept his voice soft and his grip gentle. “Tell me. Please.”

Trying to think back on the evening only seemed to mire her further in uncertainty, fatigue creeping back in. “I… I don’t know.” 

“Sweetheart, this is important.” Kylo leaned closer, and a whiff of pine broke through the fog. “Have you met anyone by the name of Snoke?”

She needed to be closer. Rey slid off the bed onto his lap, knees to either side of his hips. As his arms wrapped around her she pressed her nose to the crook of his neck, mind clearing as she breathed him in. “Like the officiant on our marriage certificate?”

His embrace tightened. “The very same.”

“No.” The events of her shift were still a little blurred, but the cobwebs were gone. “No. I would remember a name like that.”

“You would. Has anyone given you any gifts, recently?”

“Beside you?”

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Yes.”

“No. Just you.” Her robe had loosened when she joined him on the floor. She could feel the fabric of his henley against her stomach, the denim of his jeans against the apex of her thighs. “You really want to leave tonight?”

She had a sense that he had only just realized quite how naked she was under the robe, and when he answered it was in a gravelly, indisputably interested tone. “Yes.” Another kiss to her hair, its restraint at odds with his now-evident arousal. “I need to get you out of town.”

Rey didn’t want to move, but Kylo somehow managed to get to his feet with her still in his arms. When he set her down and stepped back there was an obvious wash of color on his cheeks. “Get dressed.” His gaze dipped briefly to where her robe gaped open, barely held together by the belt. “Please.”

Half an hour later, suitcases in hand and the apartment locked down tight, they left for Chandrila.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first game was Monarch, the second the In the Lab expansion of Pandemic.


	8. redbud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My vacation is officially over tomorrow, so we're probably back to our usual once-a-week schedule after this. I hope you've all enjoyed the update bonanza. ;D

It was the nicest bed Rey had ever slept in, and for a moment on waking she really had to think on how, exactly, she had ended up tucked under its soft white sheets and fluffy blankets.

_Chandrila._ With a yawn she rolled onto her stomach, reaching out to pat the empty space beside her as she tried to recall the night before. She had mostly slept through the drive, and barely remembered the minutes spent checking in just past midnight. She _did_ have a vague memory of wriggling out of everything but her shirt and underwear and falling into bed with no attempt at modesty, but in the light of day she found that she didn’t quite care about the lack of adherence to her own unspoken ‘change behind a shut door’ policy. There had been no nightmares, no dreams; just Kylo settling beside her and blessed sleep. 

And- more than food, more than her bladder- it was curiosity about where her husband had disappeared to that coaxed her from bed. After slipping into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take care of one need, Rey ventured into the rest of the suite and promptly stopped in her tracks.

“I must have been sleepwalking to miss all this,” she muttered, taking in the penthouse view and furnishings to match. She continued on slowly, plush carpet under her bare feet as she made her way past a sitting area and a well-appointed kitchenette, both lovely but both lacking the object of her desire. Finally, on the threshold of the second bedroom, she heard a splash. 

At her soft knock on the bathroom door Kylo called, “Come in.”

And Rey paused, pondered, weighed her options… and accepted his invitation.

“You found a tub that fits you.”

He smiled at her lazily from under a pile of bubbles, hair slicked back from his eminently kissable face. “The other one is even bigger, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

“That was kind.” The air smelled lightly of pine and bergamot, and after a moment of indecision she sat on the edge of the tub. “I didn’t know you liked bubble baths.”

“I’ve never had one before.” He stirred the water idly with one hand. “I think I do. Pleasant, if a little lonely.”

The underlying meaning lingered. Rey dipped her fingertips into the water near his feet, and found the temperature perfect. “I think some people consider that a plus.”

“There’s room for you.”

Even a few days before she would have made an excuse about ordering breakfast before escaping with a blush, but Rey found that she was no longer satisfied with that particular option. When she didn’t immediately decline Kylo’s eyes darkened, fingers curling over the lip of the tub. “I can keep my hands to myself, Rey.”

“Can you?” With a burst of daring she pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor and resisting the urge to cross her arms over her bare breasts. She liked the way he licked his lips when his gaze dropped to her chest, and liked even better that he looked back up after only a moment. He sat perfectly still as she slid off her underwear and stepped into the tub, settling at the other end. The bubbles barely covered her nipples, but- after a moment of sitting with her knees pulled up- she relaxed enough to slide her feet forward, just past his. 

They stared at each other in silence for a solid minute.

“You’re beautiful.”

They both said it at nearly the same time, and a flush of shocked, almost shy pleasure crossed Kylo’s face. “Massive Dick McDemonTree is beautiful?” he asked in a teasing, rumbling voice, and Rey covered her face with one hand in embarrassment.

“Yes, and… and that name was childish but you have to admit pretty damn true.”

One foot hooked around her ankle, and she peeked at him through her fingers. “Kylo.”

“I only specified hands, Rey.”

His right calf slipped under her knee. She knew that her height was above average, but he was so much taller, so much bigger, and Rey appreciated that more than she could have ever anticipated. “Well.” She felt a little flustered as she dropped her hand, but not because she disliked his advances. “I think you were right about leaving. I feel… I feel so much better here.” Rey laughed quietly, dropping her injured knee below the waterline to let it soak. Her foot rested just along his thigh. “A solid night’s sleep definitely helped.”

“You were out like a light the moment you hit the sheets.” He kept his hands on the rim of the tub, and Rey couldn’t help but regret the set boundary. “Didn’t even twitch when I put an arm around you.”

She shifted her foot over just a bit, brushing skin against skin. “This suite is really lovely.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“And the bed was, umm, comfortable.”

“Good.” His voice dropped to a low murmur. “You should always be comfortable in our bed.”

The tension was undeniable. Rey was seconds away from grabbing _him_\- she, after all, had never made a promise to keep her hands to herself- but then her stomach growled audibly, shattering the moment.

“Remind me to feed you _before_ coaxing you into the same tub, next time,” he said with dark amusement as he stood, water sluicing down every inch of impressive muscle, his cock very much at attention. Mouth dry, Rey stared as he grabbed a towel, hearing the slightest whine of dismay escape her when he secured it around his waist. 

“Rey?”

“Yeah?” 

He knelt beside her end of the tub, arms folded on the rim. “No hands,” he murmured, and leaned in to catch her in a kiss that threatened to melt her into nothing. 

And then he was gone, padding from the room as if he hadn’t just set her afire. “That man,” Rey muttered, stunned. “He’s…”

_Mine._

Hovering on the edge of a decision, she pulled the stopper from the tub and reached for a towel of her own.

\- - -

There was nothing to do _but_ pretend as if everything were absolutely normal. One didn’t make life-altering decisions or confess traumatic truths on an empty stomach; it was a rule that Rey believed in entirely and had no intention of breaking now.

“Where do we start?” Rey asked as she filled her plate with the bounty delivered by room service, piling it full in a no-nonsense fashion. Calories were a good substitute for bravery, in her experience. With enough calories she could do anything.

Kylo was smiling slightly as he watched her, his own plate no less full. “The local history museum.” His smile disappeared, mood visibly shifting from open to reserved. “Founded, according to their website, by an Alice Skywalker.”

Rey, a half-eaten croissant in one hand, stilled. “You know that name.”

“I know the family name.” He began spreading butter with mathematical precision on a piece of toast. “My maternal grandfather was a Skywalker. As was my uncle.”

Rey wondered, suddenly, why she had never thought to ask if he had any family yet living. Perhaps because he had never broached the topic himself. “A cousin, then, or second cousin?”

“Apparently, though my uncle was still a bachelor when I was bound.” He carefully set the toast on his plate. “But it’s not open today,” he continued, looking relieved in the way one might when something unpleasant is postponed. “Neither is the library.” 

She ate the last of her croissant as she considered what to say, and straightforward inquiry won out. “What bothers you about that museum?”

Kylo’s answer was quiet, almost reluctant. “It’s in my family home.”

And now they were going to walk through it like tourists, behind velvet ropes and barred from certain rooms. “I’m sorry, Kylo.”

“It is what it is,” he replied with a shrug. “And in some ways I’m a little amazed the house is still standing. It will just be… odd. Almost as odd as finding out that at some point stodgy Uncle Luke married.”

“Not as charming as you, then?”

His expression lightened with a flicker of amusement. “No one has ever accused me of being charming, before. The opposite, actually.”

“Perhaps I’m the only one who can see it.”

“You are very remarkable.” The set of his shoulders relaxing, Kylo broke off a corner of his toast and popped it into his mouth. 

“So we have a free day,” she confirmed, and ate a large bite of sausage and eggs with more purpose than actual interest, just as she had between every phrase they had exchanged.

“We do.” He speared a raspberry with his fork, smiling at her. “What would you like to do?”

Certainty settled inside her, as well as a little bit of nausea, and she pushed away her plate. “I’m going to tell you my why.”

The conversation could not be held at the breakfast table. Instead, Rey rose from her chair and crossed to the couch, gesturing at it when he followed. “I need to tell this in as few words as possible,” she told him as he sat on the edge of the cushion. “Without interruptions.”

If she faltered her courage might abandon her, and Rey couldn’t take that chance. She needed to talk her way through, and she needed to stay on her feet, and she couldn’t have him murmuring soothing reassurances. 

“My parents were low-level drug dealers,” she said in a blunt, factual tone after he had nodded his acceptance. “They were too dependent on their own supply to rise above that, but they were part of a ring that the police had been gathering evidence on for a long time. I didn’t know that, then; I was only- only five, almost six, and all I knew were the two rooms I was allowed.”

They had hidden her well, her parents. Why, Rey never knew, but at least those early years had held nothing worse than cold and hunger and neglect. “I read the court documents and police reports as soon as I was old enough to request them,” she explained, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “They’re still sitting in a box in my closet. So I know that the police planned the bust with only two adults in mind, and I know-”

Rey shook her head, anger slipping into her voice. “I _remember,_” she amended, beginning to pace. “Everyone said later that I was too young to really remember, to understand, but I remember my father snatching me up off the ground and holding me in front of him, and I remember that his grip was so tight that he hurt my ribs, and I remember the shouting and the threats and the guns and I might not have known what they were but I did know that they were scary as fuck.” 

And it had been impossible, at that moment, to discern the difference between strange people screaming at her and strange people screaming at her father; as far as Rey had been concerned it had all been one and the same. And it was all she remembered even now, though distance and time had set the memories at a remove- provided, of course, she didn’t purposefully think on them.

But now she was, and she shook. “I don’t remember the next part.” True. “The next thing I remember is the hospital, and by then I was an orphan.”

Also true. Kylo looked to be holding himself back from standing, from saying something, but- in lieu of either- he extended his hands toward her, palms up.

The gesture helped, and the rest of the story spilled out in a rush. “It hurt, the hospital, but in retrospect I know it was necessary and they asked my name but I only knew ‘Rey’ and they didn’t know who I was because there was no paperwork, no proof that I even belonged to my parents.” She sucked in a breath, hands trembling just an inch above his. “I was no one.” Rey met his gaze firmly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I am no one. So.” It was painful to speak, but she managed the last two words. “Your turn.”

He closed his hands around hers with deliberate care, so pale that his beauty marks were in stark relief against his skin. “Rey.”

“No. Your turn.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss against the knuckles of her left hand. “I didn’t make the deal for the wealth or the power,” he murmured against her skin. The dampness against the back of her hand, however, told Rey that he begun to cry. “My mother was sick. Dying. And I… Rey, I wanted to save her and I wanted to prove myself to both my parents in the worst way, so after promising I would never look at my grandfather’s papers again I pulled them out from their hiding spot and went looking for a miracle. And I found one.” He lifted his head. “My grandfather died before he could attempt it, but I foolishly thought that I could… could trick the trickster.”

Rey felt hollow, but the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant. It was almost a relief. Removing to Chandrila had brought a measure of clarity, and the past few minutes had given her yet another. “And that’s when you enlisted Kaydel?”

“She loved my mother, too. Kaydel wanted her to live just as much as I did, so I thought it was safe. The deal was my binding for my mother’s cure; the money, the power- just side-benefits.” Kylo laughed harshly. “Snoke said it was _standard,_ and I didn’t even question it. Then I was caught, and Kaydel never came.”

He turned her left hand palm upward, pressing it to his cheek. “But my mother did live,” he said softly. “I know, because months later she passed by my tree with my father, both of them full of life. Lightning streaked down from a perfectly clear sky and took them both, right in front of me. So.” Kylo’s eyes closed. “That’s my why.”

Against the skin of her palm he was warm and smooth-shaven, his posture radiating guilt. She bent toward him, touching his hair. “Kylo.”

He shook his head a little. “I was an adult, Rey, and-”

“Kylo.” The whys were done, and Rey had never looked for hers to be exorcised. Sharing it, though- sharing it had been like the painful process of cleaning out infected tissue, and she wouldn’t allow him to wallow. “Kylo, this isn’t the Pain Olympics. Don't apologize.”

He opened his eyes, a disbelieving look on his face- and then he laughed genuinely, albeit on an off-beat. “Is it not, sweetheart?”

“No.” Rey briefly bit her lower lip, second-guessing those reckless words. “I wasn’t trying to be dismissive, I was trying to be-”

“Kind.” He sat up fully and drew her down onto his lap, his face just as tear-streaked as hers likely was. “You were very kindly trying to distract me.”

“A little.”

“You wouldn’t let me distract you.”

“I couldn’t.” She allowed herself the luxury of nestling into him. “Might as well get it done in one go.” Rey hooked the fingers of one hand into the collar of his shirt, another tight-fitting henley that by law should never be buttoned, and told him another truth. “I love you.”

“Do you?” he asked softly.

“I’ve known it for a while, I was just afraid to say. But I do.” Rey took in a breath as he tilted up her chin, their eyes meeting. “You are terribly lovable, you know. Just really, really distracting, and not because you keep feeding me and you’ve filled my closet with cashmere.”

“The food helps, though.”

“The food is secondary.” She hesitated, considering. “Never thought I would say that.”

Kylo kissed her, gathering her in so gently that she regretted, just a little, telling him about her ribs. “I love you, too,” he murmured against her mouth. “Sweet, lovely Rey, who is most definitely _not_ no one.”

“Still occasionally feral, actually.”

He nipped at her lower lip. “I don’t care.”

“Good. Could we… could we just cuddle, for now, and watch some really mindless tv?” she asked, and peeked over the back of the couch at the breakfast table. “And I might… no, I do want more of that bacon.”

“Yes.” The flutter of his lashes against her neck when he kissed her there made Rey sigh. “Yes to both.”

\- - -

“Did you want that?” Kylo asked later as they lounged on the couch, his arms loose around her lower back as she rested on top of him. 

Rey languidly considered the wedding dress on screen. “I wouldn’t have said yes to that dress.”

One hand tickled her side, surprising a laugh. “The general concept, wife, not the sheer corset.”

“Would you like me in a sheer corset?”

“Rey.”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I never really considered it. I wouldn’t have anyone to take but Rose… maybe Maz. Poe and Finn would want to come, but they would be impossible to please. Poe would want a plunging neckline and Finn would want me buttoned to the chin, so…”

“We could have a real wedding.” He moved one hand to her lower back, his fingertips stroking across the strip of bare skin between pajama pants and top. “Anywhere you like. I could probably go safely into a church. Probably.”

Rey turned her head, resting her chin on her hands clasped over his chest. “I don’t spend a great deal of time in churches.”

“A resort?”

“I’ve never been to one.”

He didn’t look frustrated or upset, just open-minded. “Your choice. If you want a wedding we’ll have one, if not we won’t.”

“Or.” His lips were tantalizingly close. “You know, the tub was nice. Much nicer than the one at the apartment.”

“And?”

“So maybe we have a very nice house-warming when we buy our new place.” 

The hand at her back spread beneath her top, large and warm and as comforting as it was enticing. “I like the way you think, wife.”

And they went back to watching brides and their entourages debate the finer points of white versus blush.

\- - -

The problem, Rey realized after a quick shower and changing into a pair of evening pajamas- thinner and sleeker and while not exactly seductive definitely more clingy- was that they had left the rings at the apartment. It hadn’t been an issue, at the time, because she had been half-asleep and in any case she had grown accustomed to rings just showing up randomly on a semi-regular basis, but an entire day had passed and not one ring had popped up. Not in her suitcase, not in the fridge, not in the bedside table drawers or in the fruit bowl or between the spare blankets in the closet. 

“What do you need?”

Rey, half in the cabinet under the kitchenette sink, didn’t even bother to hide her mission. “I’m trying to find a ring.”

The ensuing silence had an odd quality, but before she could back out of the cabinet to investigate one arm wrapped around her waist and a hand cupped the back of her head- which, considering her first instinct had been to rear up, had probably saved her from a concussion. 

“_Shit,_” she hissed when she saw the scraped skin on the back of his hand, droplets of blood welling up. “I’m so sorry- you might get tetanus-”

“I’ve had my vaccines.” He still had his other arm wrapped around her, and one look at his face made her forget to ask when, exactly, he had taken care of his contribution to herd immunity. “A ring, sweetheart?”

She blinked. “I… well, you seem to find those kind of crucial to the process.”

His mouth curved into a smile as his head bent toward her. “Do I?”

“I have, like, a pile that would buy a county on the table at home. Maybe a state.”

“And you want one now?”

Rey narrowed her eyes at the playful challenge in his tone, rising to her toes. “You bet your ass, Massive Dick McDemonTree.”

He smirked. “Very well, Mrs. McDemonTree.”

“I swear to God, Kylo, if that turns up on my driver’s license-”

He kissed her swiftly. “Check my right pocket.”

Her fingers found smooth metal warmed by his body heat, and it was with a sense of rightness that she pulled out a plain gold band that was the mate to his. 

“Is that what you were waiting for?” Kylo asked her softly, hands moving to her hips. 

“Yes.” Even if she hadn’t quite known it. No sparkle, nothing that would catch or snare or draw attention. Rey slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand, where it settled perfectly at the base. “I realize we’ve had a very emotional day…”

His mouth brushed over the sensitive crest of one ear. “Yes?”

“But would you mind if I climbed you like a tree? Sexually, I mean.”

“I’m not sure how that works, but-”

She jumped, taking hold of him with arms and legs as firmly as she might a trunk. “Like this.”

He had grabbed her the moment she sprang up, hands holding her instinctively and securely. The look in his eyes was gratifyingly intense, all heat and love and purpose. “That’s a good start.”

At that moment the suite could consist of only four walls and a floor and it wouldn’t matter, it wouldn’t matter at all. “A start?” she teased.

And in answer, he carried her off to bed.


	9. sweetgum

Rey did not like to be overpowered, or caged in, or weighed down. She hated losing even the illusion of autonomy, though she had perfected the art of projecting bland indifference in inescapable situations that called for politeness, and snarling when rage was acceptable.

Kylo, though- hovering over her on his hands and knees, hair falling around his face as he smiled- Kylo she could tap with one finger and he would immediately back away, and it was a surprise just how much she liked not only that sense of power, but also the look of him above her. 

“What are you thinking?” He lowered himself onto her, keeping most of his weight on his forearms, but what she could feel was delicious. “I meant it, when I said you should always be comfortable.”

She certainly felt comfortable enough to tease. “I was thinking that this must be why people love weighted blankets.” Rey shifted a little so that his body settled into the cradle of her hips. “I like… this.” She touched his side with her right hand, admission quiet. “You would move if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

Instead of answering he rolled to his side, drawing her with him. “Do you know how happy I was when you asked for that ring?” he murmured, arms snugging around her. “How much I love you? I would give you anything.”

“Anything is too generous; I might ask for a pony.”

“We could buy enough land for a herd of ponies.”

True enough. “I want…”

Rey slipped her fingers under his shirt, feeling muscles she had admired but never dared touch. “I want this off.”

He peeled it off immediately, lying back with what seemed to be an acre of chest and arms on display. “Good?”

“Were you lifting weights in that tree?” she asked, rising to her knees and pressing her hands lightly to his abdomen. “This is just…”

“I used to cut a lot of firewood.”

“Ironic.”

“But I have been going to a gym while you’re at work.”

Rey looked up, feeling a little stricken. “I should have asked.”

“You have been working.” He said it factually, moving one arm under the back of his head. “This entire time we’ve lived together, you’ve paid for every necessity _but_ groceries, and only because I obtained those myself. You wouldn’t let me take over the rent, or the bills.”

“I couldn’t.” His skin was warm under her hands, and comforting. “Not until… not until I knew.”

“I know.” He lifted his other hand- his left, the gold of his ring gleaming softly in the light- and touched her cheek. “I figured that out when you panicked at the idea of moving.”

Rey felt her mouth quirk into a small, sad smile. “What would a diner waitress do, if her rich, magical husband disappeared?”

“The better question is, ‘what would Rey do if her rich, magical husband took care of her every need?’” He shifted, a little, and to her eyes an impressive amount of muscle rippled. 

“I’ve always taken care of myself.” Even when she had been tired, even when she had been sick, even when she had been at her wit’s end. Even when she had been tiny. “Though I’m learning that it’s nice, to lean on someone else.” Rey took in a breath. “You. It’s nice to lean on you.”

“I am very sturdy.”

“Kylo.” 

“Storm-proof.”

He probably had survived a number of impressive storms, over the years, and Rey cared, she really did. She could foresee evenings spent inhaling those stories, spent stroking his hair as he expressed how it had felt- but she had him spread in front of her like a feast, and after so long denying herself she didn’t want to slip down a rabbit trail. 

_Am I a terrible wife?_

Kylo smiled, the set of his mouth soft, and her gaze drifted down to the obvious bulge pressing against the front of his jeans. 

_Maybe not._

“You can lean on me,” he said in a low voice. “You know you can, Rey.”

“Will you lean on me?” She slipped the fingers of one hand through his hair, bending to brush a kiss over his chin. “I want you to. I need you to. I’m not breakable.”

“The furthest thing from it.” And she believed that he believed that, from the tenor of his voice and the way he pulled her down to his chest, arms wrapping around her. “I saw it, even from my tree. I might be pine, but you’re ironwood.” He kissed her, and kissed her so gently that she clung to him with every limb, knees tightening around his hips. “I will lean on you, Rey.”

There was no hurry or impatience in the way he touched her, in the way he slipped his hands under her shirt and traced his fingertips over her skin. No rush in the way he kissed her, as if he were content to spend all the time he had remaining on earth with his lips against hers and his tongue slipping between.

And it was lovely, and well-meant, and beautiful, but Rey had never been one to linger over a treat when she could bolt it instead. Too much of a risk that someone would come along and steal what was hers, if she took slow and careful bites, and as ridiculous as it was she felt that same instinctual inclination to haste as she jerked off her shirt and pressed herself close. “Faster,” she murmured, nipping at his lower lip, the feel of skin against skin heady and potent.

His slow smile verged on a smirk. “I’m savoring, Rey.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

Kylo’s dark eyes searched hers, and whatever he saw must have given him a hint of her mindset because he abruptly rolled her beneath him, catching Rey in a kiss that devoured. 

“One day you’ll let me love you slow,” he said, moving down her body with his lips against her skin. “You’ll let me kiss you into a drugged haze, let me stroke you until you purr.” His mouth closed over the peak of one breast, startling a soft cry from her. When he pulled away with a flick of his tongue against her nipple she shook. “Won’t you, Rey?”

“Yes.” She already felt drugged, with his fingers hooked under the waistbands of her pajama pants and underwear. Lifting her hips, she allowed him to drag them down and off. “But I don’t want to wait, this time.”

His hands pushed open her unresisting thighs. “You’re going to have to wait a little,” he told her in a voice rough with emotion, meeting her gaze briefly before looking down with an expression that bordered on wolfish. “But you’ll like it.”

Rey had never considered herself to be particularly loud in bed. Sex, when she sought it out, was generally pleasant and usually fun, but not a one of her partners had ever electrified her quite as much as Kylo. The noise she made at the first swipe of his tongue against her center had her slapping a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She felt more than heard his laugh, the rumble vibrating against sensitive flesh as he set to work with single-minded intensity, a firm hold on her hips. 

When she moaned his name, muffled against her palm, he paused long enough to rub his cheek against her inner thigh. “What was that?”

No attempt at innocence, there, just dark satisfaction that made her squeak in a frankly embarrassing fashion. 

“Don’t worry about being overheard.” His fingers stroked lightly through her folds. “It’s just the two of us, here. Just me. Just you.”

He rewarded the flop of her hand against the covers with the slip of one fingertip inside her and a murmured “Thank you,” before making her forget her shame at being loud and possibly her own name in the bargain with every single lick and kiss and thrust of his fingers.

“Are you still with me, sweetheart?” he asked after, pressing a ridiculously chaste kiss to the skin of her belly as she tried to remember how, exactly, moving and speaking and breathing worked. “That was a very pretty way you said my name, right at the end,” Kylo continued as he crawled up her body, arms bracketing her head.

“Uh-huh.” She managed to reach up and swipe her thumb over the shine of moisture on his lower lip. Her. That was her, and he looked so damned pleased with himself in a way that- admittedly- he very much deserved. “Your pants.”

He raised a brow, smug. “What was that?”

“Your pants are still on.”

“Haven’t lost all of your senses, then.”

Rey blinked when he rolled off of her and got to his feet, feeling an unreasonable sense of loss. “Have you done that before?” She had been a recipient of the act in the past, but never with such a generous fervor that bordered on selfish. Selfish on _his_ part, as if all he had ever wanted was to get his mouth between her legs and shake her apart at the seams.

He shook his head, snagging a tissue to wipe his face before stripping off the rest of his clothing. “I’ve thought about it nearly every night that I’ve slept beside you.” When he moved back toward her she held up still weak arms eagerly, closing them around him when he settled back on top of her. “And in the morning. And a lot of afternoons, too.”

“Are you disappointed?”

Kylo kissed the delicate skin just under one ear, nuzzling there even as the tip of his cock nudged against her _just_ so, and heat thrummed through her again. “My new favorite hobby. It was even better than I expected.” He drew back, grinning slyly. “And I expected a lot.”

It was almost overwhelming, how much time he spent thinking of her. Her gaze dipped to his mouth. “Are you still keeping count?”

His grin softened to something sweet and inviting. “One hundred and ninety-seven. On the mouth, at least.”

She cupped his cheek, giving him a gentle one hundred and ninety-eight. “Take me. Husband.”

“Now?” 

“Now.”

The stretch to accommodate him took her breath away, her eyelids slamming shut. It had been nearly two years since her last partner and he was as big as her teasing nickname had implied, but the feel of him and the racing thought of _mine mine mine yes_ shot through her, wiping away any lingering lassitude. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her hands clenched at his back, and when she opened her eyes it was to see him staring at her with a surprisingly vulnerable expression. 

“I’m not hurting you?” He held himself still, _so_ still, sheathed to the hilt with his breath coming quick and ragged. “Rey.”

“No.” The furthest thing; he was hot and satisfying and positively addicting. “Move. Please. _Please._”

And with a choked sigh of relief he did exactly as she asked, strokes firm and only just at a bare remove from desperate- and then suddenly they were desperate, his face buried in her hair as he muttered words of love and promises so filthy and adoring that she nearly came a second time on the strength of his words alone. 

_Mine._ Utterly deep and one-hundred percent hers, and if anyone tried to take him she would tear out their eyes with her nails and-

A minute shift of angles drove her over the edge, and he tumbled after her seconds later with a groan that implied he had been holding on to control by a thread. 

After, the dampness against her shoulder- the same shoulder his head was nestled against, her hands in his hair- inspired her to do more than just enjoy the feel of post-coital languor. “You’re safe now,” she murmured, one hand sliding down his bare back. “Kylo?”

“I’m happy.” His smile was crooked when he lifted his head, evidence of tears on his cheeks. “Making love to his wife will do that to a man. Or this man, at least.”

“But the deal can’t be undone now, right?” Rey spoke with only relief. “You get to stay.”

“I would have stayed even without sex.” He snared one hand, drawing it to his mouth. “But yes, this fulfills the terms of my deal.”

“And you chose me.”

“You.” He moved up, drawing them both onto their sides. “But if you’re thinking I’m crying solely because the last t’s are crossed, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Rey tucked herself under his chin, pressing her lips against the crook of his neck. “You like fucking me.”

“I love you.”

“And you like fucking me.”

“I love you _and_ I love fucking you.” He laughed quietly, arms tight around her. “And you?”

“Same on both counts; only demon tree dick will do from now on.”

“_Rey._”

“I put on a ring.” Drawing back enough to meet his gaze, Rey gave him a firm, uncompromising look. “I put on your ring, and no one will take you from me.”

Memory nagged at her mind, but it was veiled and obscured by something she couldn’t quite grasp. Undeterred, she drew him close again, snuggling into him. “And now I want…”

His brief chuckle was thick and muffled against her hair. “What?”

“Cake.”

“That, my love, I can do.”

\- - -

There was, the next morning, a moment upon waking that Rey felt the horrid uncertainty of fear. The bed was empty, save her, and she was sore and sticky and alone-

And then Kylo walked in, carrying two coffee mugs, and her fear melted away. 

“Cream,” he said, putting the two mugs on the bedside table and dropping a kiss on her lips. “Cream for you, and sugar for me.”

“Metaphorically?” she asked with a yawn.

“Literally.” He drew up her left hand, brushing a kiss over the gold band she wore. “But you are very, very sweet.”

Rey claimed her mug, hooking the fingers of her free hand in the handle. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Neither have I.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

She sipped, and it was perfect. He had a flare for that. “We can’t stay in bed all day, can we?”

“Technically, we could.” Despite having the advantage of height, he managed to peer at her through his lashes. “You’re hurting.”

Rey glared half-heartedly. “I… I am out of practice.”

“I’m going to draw you a bath.”

“Kylo.” She drew a foot from beneath the sheets, pressing it against his thigh. “If you _dare_ coddle me because a few good romps made me sore… I will be very upset.”

“I hurt you.”

“You did no such thing; no pain was involved.” She took another sip balefully. “And if there is a bath, we share it.”

“I just feel bad about causing you any kind of pain,” he murmured after scrutinizing her face, the set of his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I am sorry.”

“You need to trust that I’ll tell you if I’m in pain.”

“I will.” He moved to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her bare shoulders. “I will, love.”

Rey snuggled into his side. “So. The museum.”

He sighed. “The museum.”

“We could wait until tomorrow.”

His fingers traced uneven circles on her arm as he thought. “But then I’ll want to wait for the day after that,” Kylo admitted softly. “Then the day after that.”

“So today?”

“Today.” He brushed a kiss over her temple. “And a bath… would be nice.”

She smiled into her mug, every slip and slide of his fingertips over her skin a warm stoking of inner fire. “And I’ll share it with you.”

On the same end, even.

\- - -

“I didn’t realize we would be so close.”

Rey recognized this stretch of road. The turn-off for the campsite was only a mile more, and she was fairly sure that she remembered seeing a peek of this same stone exterior through the trees weeks before when they had passed.

“I wasn’t surprised when I saw my parents near my tree.” His tone, unsurprisingly, was bleak. “We were all accustomed to wandering through those woods.”

“Your trickster was a real bastard.”

Kylo huffed a dry laugh. “He was. Is.”

He parked, one of over a dozen cars in the small parking lot. Rey looked up at the building in front of her. “Architecture was never a focus, but is this Gothic Revival?”

“It is. A very early work by Alexander Jackson Davis.” 

It looked, Rey thought, like an asymmetrical and smallish version of an English country estate transplanted to the American South. “You grew up here?”

“The roof leaked,” he said with a telling lack of emotion. “The fortune was gone, so my parents closed off rooms and tried their best to keep up with repairs. We could have sold it, I suppose, but Mother was stubborn.”

_And you thought, perhaps, that you could save your mother and this home in one fell swoop._ Rey snuck a glance at her husband, who was doing his best to not care in the slightest. _Didn’t you._

“Anyway.” He opened the driver’s side door, and before she could do more than frown and gather her thoughts had loped around to her door and opened it. “I’d carry you over the threshold, but that would just invite questions.”

“Best to avoid it,” she agreed, taking the hand he offered. “Kiss me.”

Actual feeling crept onto his face, and he bent toward her slightly. “Wife?”

“Kiss me.” Rey wrapped her hands around the lapels of his coat. “You’ll feel better.”

His smile, at that, was genuine. “You’re right. I will.”

She felt better, too, with his lips pressed to hers. “You aren’t going in alone,” Rey whispered. “You and me.”

Kylo cupped her face in his hands. “I would have brought you home to my mother,” he told her softly. “She would have loved you. My father, too.”

Oddly, it was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever told her. “Thank you.” She stayed as she was for a moment longer, content despite the brisk wind cutting across the parking lot. “Show me?”

And they were fine as they walked across the gravel lot, his arm around her back, and fine as they ascended the steps to the porch, and fine as they stepped inside. 

But then, on the wall directly across from the entrance: a black and white photograph that must have been taken in the late 1870s or early 1880s, Kylo himself staring gravely at them from the ornate frame. 

“Well, fuck,” she heard Kylo breathe against her hair, and it took everything Rey had to smile at the startled docent who stepped forward to greet them.


	10. fringetree

The docent looked between Kylo and the photograph, her long, blonde ponytail whipping with the force of her movement. “I am so sorry,” she said after a moment, looking a little flustered. “The resemblance is just… remarkable. Are you family?”

“No,” Kylo responded curtly, then managed a semblance of a laugh as he looked back toward his own visage. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.”

_He- Ben, not Kylo, that isn’t Kylo- looks like he’s on the verge of making some reckless decision,_ Rey thought uneasily as she stared at the photograph, pressing a comforting hand to Kylo’s back. _Like-_

Forcing herself to look away, Rey rose to her toes, brushing a kiss over the corner of her husband’s mouth. “Personally, I think you’re cuter,” she said in a voice that might pass for teasing. 

“Benjamin Solo,” the docent explained, appearing to be back on easier ground. “The son of Han and Leia Solo, who once owned this home. He disappeared in 1886.”

“Did he,” Rey said, aiming for that tone of sympathy only used for tragic events far, far back in history, feeling him tense under her hand. “What a pity.”

“The original curator who managed this collection found that particular portrait in the attic.” The docent- whose name tag, Rey realized belatedly, read _Janet_\- looked back toward the object of their collective attention. “It’s remarkably well-preserved.” She gave them a flash of a grin that Rey immediately took a liking to, all warmth and sly humor. “And given that Benjamin Solo is our resident ghost, it only makes sense to give him a place of honor.”

The huffed laugh from Kylo sounded almost- almost- genuine. “Ghost?”

“Oh, a friendly one,” Janet assured him. “These days, at least. The first mentions of him come from the journals of Luke Skywalker, his uncle, who claimed that Benjamin haunted him unmercifully.”

“A metaphor?” Rey offered, trying to decipher the crooked, uncertain smile Kylo wore. Later- much later- she would joke with him about this supposed haunting. 

“That’s one interpretation,” Janet replied, sounding as if she agreed. “And a reasonable one, given that Luke not only ended up with his nephew’s inheritance, but also his intended bride.” She had looked back toward the portrait as she spoke, and- blessedly- missed the way Kylo’s face went utterly blank and Rey’s own mouth dropped open. “Our audio guide covers the story, if you’re interested in using one for your tour.”

“Please.” Rey paid their admittance fee, receiving a pair of slim mp3 players and headphones in return, and- taking his hand- guided her suddenly intensely introspective husband onward.

_“Built in 1831, the Skywalker estate was the first of its kind in Chandrila, North Carolina-”_

Kylo accepted his player without a word, but left the headphones hanging around his neck. Rey adjusted her own so that she had the ear closest to him uncovered. “Do you need to leave?” she asked in a whisper, grateful that for the moment they were alone. 

He shook his head, jaw clenched. As if looking for a distraction, his gaze swept over the room, only to snare on the desk near the row of windows. “My mother wrote all her letters, there,” he muttered, so softly she barely heard him. “The chair is wrong.”

“Perhaps some later inhabitant liked the look.”

The hand that she held shook, just a little. “This is not the way I remember it. And what she said… about…”

“Lean on me,” Rey told him when he faltered. “We’ll get through this.”

Kylo seemed to struggle with the offer for a moment, only to release a long breath and fold her in an embrace, the bend of his upper body toward hers reminiscent of a tall pine caught in a strong wind. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “I need you, now.”

“I know.” She heard the front door open in the entrance hall, heard Janet greet the next group of tourists. “Come on.”

Rey had, more than once, spent money she couldn’t necessarily spare on entrance fees for museums and historical homes alike, and a part of her was able to recognize how cleverly this particular tour had been set up. The rooms were well-staged, the narration informative and entertaining. What she heard as they walked through the ground floor was largely local history and a primer on the running of a large household, the narrator barely touching on the private lives of the actual people who had lived within the home. 

It felt like the calm before a storm, and it was. One moment they were in a well-stocked library (and nothing had changed there, or nothing for the worse; Rey could tell by the look on Ben’s face that he was relieved to see an old sanctuary so well taken care of), and the next they stepped over the threshold of a room dedicated to the Chandrilan spiritualism movement. Kylo laughed humorlessly, crossing his arms in a defensive manner after roughly pressing play on next segment of the audio. Steeling herself, Rey followed suit.

The story of Anakin and Padmé Skywalker was like a Gothic novel come to life: a beautiful, delicate wife lost too soon, a grieving husband tumbled into a spiral of despair and obsession that inevitably ended in ruin. All it lacked was a wailing ghost in the attics. 

_“-a total of twenty-seven attempts to reach his deceased wife, who-”_

“Those were only the attempts made with others present,” Kylo muttered, tugging off his headphones and moving quickly toward the door, clearly done with the subject. “His notes revealed plenty of solo ventures.”

“It sounds like he loved her desperately.”

“He did.” 

It was neither the time nor the place, but Rey couldn’t stop herself from grabbing his arm, bringing them both to a halt in the corridor. “Kylo, if you dare- _dare_\- waste away trying to contact me after I die-”

And he might, he might, because they had never settled the question of his lifespan but she had made her choice, hadn’t she?

“-I will yell at you _a lot_ once we’re again in the same place. You have to go on, do you understand?”

“Rey.” There was a broken note to her name. “That’s not… that’s not going to be a problem. Not for a long time, if it ever happens.” A flicker of a smile appeared on his face, weak and crooked. “I’m a bit older, after all.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from arguing, and then closed her eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of pine. “Of course,” she mumbled.

He drew her arm through the crook of his elbow before continuing on, left hand tucked over hers in a way that felt both courtly and intimate. “Everything’s fine.”

“I’m supposed to be telling you that,” Rey muttered as they entered a large kitchen, feeling a little ashamed of herself for even bringing up the topic. Scrambling for something, anything to say, she landed on, “Did your mother teach you to cook?”

“Some, out of necessity. And after… after she fell sick, taking over that duty made sense.” He paused next to the scarred, well-scrubbed table, expression softening as if greeting an old friend. “We couldn’t afford a cook or a maid at that point. My father was busy with other things- chasing down specialists, selling what hadn’t been sold to pay for their services. I was reading through recipes from my grandmother’s time, looking for custards and soups that might tempt my mother’s appetite.”

Rey hadn’t known his father, and never would. _It sounds like you both tried your best,_ she could have said, and it would have been a true enough statement from her perspective.

But- but Kylo had lost more than a century to a flawed deal, and both of his parents had died in the bargain. That lightning strike hadn’t been a coincidence- and the more Rey considered that fact, the more her own foggy state before leaving town jangled at her nerves. 

Because how often did one hear about a deal with a devil going well? How often did such a deal go off without a hitch? 

_It’s not done._

The pleasant female voice in her headphones was explaining kitchen staff hierarchy, and next to her Kylo was saying something almost inaudible about the inefficiency of the current layout, and all Rey wanted to do was drag him off to some underground bunker blessed by as many different faiths as she could find.

_It’s not done._

“Rey?”

The band around her finger suddenly felt flimsy and paper-thin, but Rey straightened her back and smiled up at him. This was no place for another dramatic- possibly traumatic- discussion. She would make clear her intentions of gut-punching any interfering demons later. “Yes?”

He looked tired and more than a little sad. “Are you ready to move on?”

“Of course.”

They moved quickly through the extensive pantry and housekeeper’s room, at which point they were directed back to the main staircase. On the next floor the arm under her hand flinched as they passed through a gauntlet of what were clearly family portraits and photographs. 

_There he is again, but younger, and there, a woman with curly hair and his eyes, and there a man with his crooked smile, and there-_

Picture after picture, little bits of Kylo clear in the faces of his ancestors.

He drew in a shuddering breath when they entered the first bedroom. 

“Yours?” she asked, considering the dark bedclothes and the desk with its pigeonholes and a neatly laid out papers, the tableau as if the occupant had just stepped out of the room halfway through writing a letter. 

“Mine.”

There was no warmth to the room at all. Perhaps it had once been a favorite spot, perhaps not; perhaps he had slept well in that bed, or perhaps a persistent draft had rendered the room uncomfortable at best and miserable at worst. The set-up at the desk, though, looked true to him, and she could envision Kylo sitting there, bent over a book or writing in bold, slanting script. “We’ll make sure to find you a nice desk, when we move.”

Kylo’s fingertips drifted over her wedding band, his answer almost wistful. “I do miss proper pens.”

“You miss ink splattering everywhere?” she teased gently, and he laughed a little in response. 

“It takes a steady hand.”

Rey leaned her head against his shoulder, making a mental note to research period-appropriate fountain pens, and tapped to start the next segment of narration. 

_“The fortunes of the Solo family took yet another dramatic turn in 1886, when Benjamin Solo, the heir to the crumbling estate, disappeared shortly after his mother was diagnosed with what, at the time, appeared to be breast cancer. Described as a ‘petulant, brooding young man’ in a letter penned by his uncle, Luke Skywalker-”_

Kylo, who had started the segment at nearly the same moment as Rey, made a sound of bitter amusement.

_“-it was theorized that he left to escape his many familial responsibilities, including his forthcoming marriage to Kaydel O’Connix. He never returned to Chandrila, though-”_

“Sounds like a curmudgeonly jerk,” Rey muttered as the narrator said something about possible sightings of the missing heir in Raleigh, New York, and parts of Canada. 

“He called me worse when he thought I was out of hearing. Said I’d be the end of them.”

Rey felt a surge of anger against a man long dead. “I’d like to dump him on his ass.”

The corners of his mouth barely quirked up. “To be fair, I really was broody and petulant, at times.”

“I used to share an apartment with Finn and Poe; they both had their moments.” She touched his chin, directing his gaze toward her. “I’m on your side.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, lingering there as he murmured, “You should consider that maybe- maybe- more than a century in a tree has tempered my moods with some measure of wisdom, and that my uncle had the right of it.”

Rey considered those words, half-listening for the sound of footsteps approaching. Bless the tour group behind them for being so slow. “A few of my former foster parents would have described me as being little better than a cornered wolf,” she whispered. “What would you say to that?”

He pulled back to look at her, a visible tic in his jaw. “That you had your reasons.”

“And you had yours. You were young, and your mother was dying, and you wanted approval.” She shook her head slightly. “I know how desperate the longing for approval can be.”

Rey had chased it and loathed it in turn, and while neither tactic had done her much good she understood on a bone-deep level what it was to _need_. 

He hesitated, and then brushed a kiss over her lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Loving me. Believing in me.”

She slid her hand from the crook of his elbow, wrapping both arms around his waist. “What?” she asked lightly, feeling all the more tender toward him for the cracks in his voice. “Like it’s hard?”

For a moment they just stood there, holding each other tightly, and when they moved on it was with his arm around her waist and her fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. They passed through several rooms that he simply shrugged at, his tension only returning when they stepped into the master bedroom. At that moment- without a word, without a sound- his arm dropped from around her and he walked swiftly ahead, only stopping once he was safely over the threshold. 

Rey stayed. She had to stay, to bear witness to what this room held- and she suspected that it had not been the room itself that had set him on edge, but the portrait that hung over the mantel. Just as Kylo’s own gaze snared the attention of everyone who came through the front door, the eyes of his mother had caught Rey immediately on entering. Young- _so_ young, no more than eighteen or nineteen- regal, and proud, she sat in what must have been her bridal finery with her husband standing behind, a hand on her shoulder. His attention was clearly directed toward her rather than the camera, a familiar half-smile curving his lips.

_Ben looks at me like that, sometimes,_ Rey realized with a pulse of warmth in her chest. _Loving, a little bit awestruck._

She remained just long enough to listen to the narration, which gave her a small peek into the marriage of Han and Leia Solo. They had married when she was nineteen and he was twenty-nine, following a courtship that had mildly scandalized the upper-crust of Chandrilan society. Leia- bold and opinionated, the daughter of a genteel if impoverished family- had been expected to make a match that would restore the Skywalker fortune. Instead, she had set her sights on a soldier-turned-farmer and had stubbornly refused to give her heart or hand elsewhere.

_No wonder you look so pleased with yourself,_ Rey thought as the segment ended. _But who could blame you, when he looks at you like that?_

Kylo was leaning against the wall of the hallway when she joined him, hands shoved in his pockets. She gently touched his hair, skimming her fingers over the soft waves. “They loved each other, didn’t they?”

“They did.” He sighed quietly, shoulder slumping inward. “They had their problems, but a lack of regard for each other was not one of them.”

The next group was close to catching up with them. “Come on,” Rey said softly, pulling him along. “Do you need a break?”

“No.” He freed one of his hands to take hers. “I just… I just want to know about Kaydel, and then I want to leave.”

Rey felt much the same, and it was with a fervent and silent _thank God_ that they found their answers not two rooms later. Though small, the bedroom was cozy and filled with light, sunbeams slanting over a comfortable chaise and a crib. On the chaise rested a lap desk and an artfully draped shawl. 

_“Tragedy was not solely limited to the Solo household in 1886. Mere days after the disappearance of her fiancé, Kaydel O’Connix lost both her parents and family home to a fire that she herself barely escaped, whereupon she was taken in by the couple who would have been her in-laws. When they died unexpectedly months later, Kaydel’s hasty marriage to Luke Skywalker, Leia’s brother, soon followed. It was then that-”_

Kylo looked even paler than usual. As the next group entered he turned away, positioning himself as if inspecting the view through the windows. 

_“-and spent what spare time she had writing,”_ the narrator was saying as the Rey stepped closer to him. _“Though Kaydel is largely unknown to modern readers, her novel Beneath the Bough, a Gothic tale of Faustian bargains gone awry, was an unexpected success that greatly increased the family coffers and even created a handful of local legends.”_

“Well,” Rey said quietly after the audio had ended and they were once more alone, “now we know who told Chandrila about the man in the tree.”

Kylo nodded, his expression unreadable. “I think,” he said after a moment in a measured tone, “we should find a copy of that book.”

\- - -

A small gift shop had been installed in what used to be the stables, and- unsurprisingly- copies of _Beneath the Bough_ were available for purchase. 

“More like a novella,” Rey noted as they walked back to the car, eyeing the slim volume in Kylo’s hands. “A fast read, at least.” She quickened her pace, reaching the driver’s side door before he could. With a shrug, he tossed her the keys. “Are you all right?”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said as he opened his own door. “No sense, Rey. Kaydel said she would come, and she always kept her promises. Even if she hadn’t come that day she could have come the next, or the next, or run to the forest after her parents died, or come for me after _my_ parents died. There was no reason for her marry my uncle when she could have just married _me._”

Rey bit her lower lip briefly. “What if Snoke clouded her mind, or offered her something she wanted more?”

“Like what?” he asked in frustration, dropping the book into the foot-well. She considered the cover- standard _woman with loose hair fleeing a menacing castle_ fare- and answered with a question of her own.

“Did she want to marry at all?”

Kylo didn’t speak for a long moment, his gaze directed toward something far off. “No more than I did,” he said finally. “We were friends, like I said, but… but my mother was already sick when our parents proposed the idea, and I think a desire to make her last days happy influenced both of us.”

“What if Snoke made her a counter-offer? What if he played on her desire for independence, or a writing career, or even a different marriage?”

“He… he would be able to do that, I think.” Kylo rubbed his forehead, frowning. “If the terms were that she would be magically barred from approaching my tree, she wouldn’t have been able to renege even after her parents died.”

“He could have set the fire. Unless she was very specific in making her deal…”

Kylo looked a little sick. “It would be just like him, to give her everything he promised in the cruelest manner imaginable.”

Rey buckled her seatbelt, waiting for him to do the same before starting the car. “Here’s what we’re going to do, then,” she said firmly, reversing out of their parking spot. “We’re going to return to the hotel and order lunch, and then we’re going to sit down together and take turns reading that book aloud. And you are going to let _me_ do the cosseting, today.”

He didn’t reply immediately, but when he did it was with a soft, “Thank you,” his left hand curving gently over her thigh.

_It’s not done,_ she thought again, knowing that some important piece of the puzzle lay just out of mental reach. _It’s not done._

Maybe, if they were lucky, Kaydel had left them a clue that would slot everything into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little nod to Elle Woods, there.


	11. holly

Room service had fancy mac and cheese on offer, and that was exactly what Rey ordered, feeling in need of a hefty dose of comfort food. 

And then, halfway through the bowl she was well on her way to scraping clean, the sight of Kylo studying his untouched steak with an intensity that by all rights should set the hapless meat on fire made her do something she had never, in her life, done before: she offered another person her food. 

“That poor dead cow did nothing to you,” she said in the sternest tone she could muster, which was not very stern at all. “Eat this. Mac and cheese is good for the soul.” Rey pushed the bowl of cheesy loveliness across the table, feeling only a slight pang of regret as she did so. “Try a bite. Please.”

A corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Is it anything like the neon orange concoction in your cupboard?”

“Careful; unnaturally colored mac and cheese is deeply nostalgic to my generation.” Her teasing smile slipped a little. “And it’s always felt like a treat. Especially when I had butter and milk to make it even richer, or could splurge on the brand name instead of the generic.”

Hell, her first Thanksgiving after leaving the system had been a pot of Kraft mac and cheese and a box of Little Debbies, and the memory still made her feel warm and fuzzy.

To her relief, he nodded and ate a bite- and then paused, considering the remainder. “It’s good.”

Rey stood from her chair, reaching across the table to take his plate. “Eat it, and then eat some of this steak, and then-”

“You’re still hungry.”

She sniffed, grabbing the steak knife. “If you think I’m going to abstain from this ridiculously expensive piece of meat then you’re a fool.”

The look on his face was a familiar one, and usually preceded him cupping her face in his hands and kissing her senseless. “Eat,” she ordered before he could say anything or rise from his chair, and pointed the knife at him for good measure. 

“Very well, sweetheart,” he murmured with a slight smile, forking up another bite.

She ate most of his fries and a portion of the vegetables and meat before he finished, and then pushed the plate back toward him, watching as he devoured what was left.

“Haunting must be hungry work.”

He huffed, picking up the last fry. “I’m a very busy man.”

“Was it guilt, do you think?”

“Maybe.” He broke the fry in half, frowning. “Or maybe it was dementia or some kind of demonic trick.”

The same thought had occurred to Rey. “Do you think that… that there is something about your family that attracted Snoke?”

Kylo dropped the halves to his plate with a shrug. “Do demons have a purpose other than creating misery? I might be one of thousands of victims who have fallen prey to Snoke.”

“Maybe.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“You’re-”

Rey paused, considering. “You have a spark,” she said finally. “I noticed it from the beginning. I think I would have noticed it even if we’d only passed on the street, or crossed paths in the diner. You would have been special to him, because of that- or perhaps as some kind of legacy, if he had been aiming for your grandfather.” 

“That’s… possible.” Kylo stood, rounding the table as she watched. “What else are you thinking, sweetheart? You have this look.”

She scooted her chair back as he knelt beside her, one hand coming to rest on her knee. “I think you were right to get me out of town. I was… foggy, and having these terrible dreams that shouldn’t have been as attractive as they were.” Rey laughed bitterly. “My parents were never good to me, but fuck, those dreams tugged at my heart. And I _know_ that something happened during my last shift, but I don’t know what. And I should know, if this were really done.” She closed one hand over his, feeling a little reassured by the contact. “But it’s not, is it? Your deal might be, but he’s hoping to tempt me into betraying you like Kaydel. And if I don’t bend, he’ll return for our children, if we have any.”

“I think so.” When she gave him a searching look, he offered a slight, pained smile. “Last night I was hopeful. When I woke up I felt differently. The only reason I didn’t mention it was because I knew the day would be difficult enough, but in retrospect I should have spoken up.” He reached up with his free hand, cupping her cheek. “I’m sorry those nightmares hurt you so much.”

“I was foolish to let them,” she muttered, blinking back sudden tears.

“No. No, you weren’t. You’re allowed to grieve for what never was. I do, sometimes. Usually about my parents.”

“Not Kaydel?”

“Not since I left the tree. What I have with you is better than anything I might have had with Kaydel.” His expression turned regretful, a little guilty. “I wish I had seen how much she struggled with the situation, though. I should have been a better friend, and not dragged her into my own mess.”

“We can’t change that, now.” And even knowing how much Kaydel had lost, Rey couldn’t help but be selfishly glad that Kylo wore her ring. “Do you think your uncle was kind to her?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately, no doubt in his voice. “Humorless and emotionally distant, most likely, but he would have treated her with respect.”

“That’s good, at least.” Rey leaned into his palm a little, releasing a quiet sigh. “Are you ready?”

In answer he stood, turning his hand in hers to twine their fingers together. “Yes.”

When they settled on the couch, it was with Rey at one end and Kylo- after she had crooked a finger in invitation- lying down on his back, head on her lap. He was too tall to fit comfortably, but didn’t seem to mind needing to draw up his knees. Before opening to the first chapter Rey scanned the short bio at the front. “They had two children,” she told him. “And six years after they married, your uncle died of a heart attack.”

“I hope he left her a wealthy widow, at least,” Kylo said dryly. 

“Wealthy enough, it looks like. She restored the house and continued writing; later their son became a senator and their daughter married into a well-off local family. Kaydel never married again.”

“Well.” He smiled rather crookedly, the curve of his mouth softening when she stroked a hand over his hair. “If her wish was to live independently, she did eventually achieve it.”

It was a little annoying to hold the book open and turn pages with only one hand, but she liked petting his hair too much to stop quite so soon. “‘Chapter One: Spring of Sorrow’.”

He muttered something a tad dramatically under his breath, and she snorted in response.

“I want to get through this before the day is out.”

“I’ll do my best to behave,” he replied, not looking apologetic in the slightest. She gently tweaked the tip of his nose, and then took in a breath and began.

“‘Catherine Connor was born under a fortunate star, according to her family, but as the years passed that heavenly fortune seemed to slip ever out of reach…’”

\- - -

_-and there I beat my fists against the solid wall made of thin air, the tree within view but its prisoner forever lost to me. Forgive me, I wanted to scream. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, but every time I opened my mouth I tasted the ashes that my life had become._

_“Are you not pleased with your choice?” The snake to my Eve waited out of sight in the shadows, his tone a mockery of kindness. “No parents, no betrothed, no well-meaning friends to rule your life. Freedom is yours.”_

_My answer was a raw rasp. “This is not what I wanted.”_

_“‘I want to forge my own path,’ you said. ‘Make my own way.’ You didn’t want to spend what remained of your life scrubbing the floors of a drafty home past saving. You were terrified of dying in childbed.”_

_I whirled to face him, seeing only the barest outline of his tall form. “Because you sent the nightmares. You convinced me that death lay around every turn.” _

_Digging into me like claws until nightmare was certainty, and the mere sight of Bernard, so tall and handsome, filled me with dread. _

_“Nightmares are meaningless. They are nothing.”_

_“The ones you sent weren’t nothing.”_

_“Because you made them so.” I caught the hint of a smile. “And now their subject need not worry you.”_

_And then he was gone, my snake, and I fell to my knees in the middle of the forest, weeping for I know not how long. The sins that weighed on my soul would never be expunged, as four graves and the tree behind me attested. There would be no journeys to grand cities, no entry into the artistic, intellectual circles I had longed to conquer. _

_When I finally rose to my feet, it was with the convicted air of one called to don the veil and submit themselves to a life of prayer. I had once feared becoming the mistress of Mustafar Estate and submitting myself to drudgery, but no longer. Its moldering halls and dusty rooms were the only home I had left, and I would seek atonement by caring for it on behalf of those I had so carelessly condemned to death. _

_Face streaked with tears, and gown bearing evidence of my time in the forest, I sought out Llewelyn St. John and accepted the offer of marriage that, only hours before, I had received with trembling._

\- - -

They finished the last page after the sun had set, and for a long moment both of them sat side by side on the couch, completely silent. 

“I’m not mad anymore,” Kylo said finally, standing slowly. “I need- I need to take a walk. Alone.”

She couldn’t bring herself to protest, couldn’t bring herself to bind him there, with her. “All right.”

“I-”

He broke off, raking a hand through his hair. “I should have seen how much she feared me,” he said quietly, bleakly.

Rey felt more than a little sick to her stomach, but not because of the way the book had depicted him. “We don’t know how much of it was fictionalized.”

“I remember having those conversations.” He was moving away, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair. “Two of those characters sounded just like my parents. That St. John was a portrait of my uncle. That was- that was memoir.” 

The book had dropped to the floor when he stood, but Rey made no attempt to rescue it. Instead she sat, legs crossed in tailor’s pose, her fingertips digging into the couch cushion as she watched him put on his shoes. Mouth dry, she very nearly didn’t say anything else at all- and then, when he was at the door, managed a quiet, “Are you going to come back?”

Though his face was turned away from her, she still saw the little jolt as her words hit. He was back across the room in seconds, his hands cupping her cheeks. “I’m going to come back,” he promised in a low voice, expression visibly stricken. Bending, he kissed her in a manner too raw, too desperate for her to mistake him. “I’ll always come back. I just… I just need some fresh air.”

“Okay.” Rey felt embarrassment at her own neediness wash through her. “I’m sorry. Go, walk. I’m fine.”

“No more than I am,” he muttered, brushing a second, lighter kiss over her lips. “I’ll be back soon.”

Once alone, she carefully unfolded her legs, setting her socked feet flat on the floor. For the first time in years she felt the urge to spring up and away, that old instinctual fear that something lurked in the gap between the floor and the bottom of the couch playing at her mind. Rey willed herself to sit for another half-minute more, gritting her teeth as she counted every second. Only then did she allow herself to stand and dart forward, stopping in the middle of the room. 

Odd, how much cozier the suite had felt with him in it. Odd how her own breathing seemed to echo, how she had grown chilled in less than a minute. 

Needing something, anything to do, she picked up the room service menu and then put it down just as quickly, unable to tolerate even the idea of food. She neatened the jumble of her shoes by the door and folded her discarded sweater; went into the bathroom and set out her own toiletries in a perfectly straight line on one side of the sink. Twitched a nearly invisible wrinkle from the made bed, and then went into the unused guest room and did the same there. Plumped the pillows on the couch. All the while, the palpable feelings of guilt and desperation that had seemed to pulse like a heartbeat behind every line of Kaydel’s book ate away at her mind. 

Rey understood guilt, understood desperation, understood longing. She understood what it was to be caught in an out-of-control maelstrom, choices snatched from her hands at every turn. 

_And Snoke didn’t leave you many choices, did he?_ she thought, finally picking up the book when there was nothing else left to neaten. _He hounded you with nightmares and visions until all you wanted was an escape from what he framed as a misery._

“Cheating,” she said aloud, attempting to smooth the bent cover. “A massive, fucking cheater.”

Padding into the bedroom, she tucked the book into her suitcase and then- unsure what else to do- flopped down onto the bed.

Kylo would be back, eventually.

\- - -

It was the careful slip of denim down her legs that woke her, leaving Rey blinking up at the still-lit overhead light. She didn’t bother lashing out; her mind had unconsciously recognized Kylo before she had even opened her eyes. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured, dropping her jeans at the foot of the bed. “I just didn’t think you would be comfortable sleeping in those.”

“I wouldn’t.” Rey stretched, then poked at his thigh with her foot. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight.” He looked a little embarrassed as he took hold of the covers, clearly ready to tug them from under her body and tuck her in for the night. “I didn’t mean to stay out so late. I’m sorry.”

“You look calmer.”

She felt calmer, but that might have been the vestiges of sleep dulling jagged edges. 

“I think I am.” He considered her, gaze seemingly fixed on her hips. “Do I scare you, Rey?”

Kaydel’s- or Catherine’s- nightmares of dying in childbirth, blood soaking into the mattress as she strained to deliver a baby too big for her frame, had been some of the hardest passages to read in the entire book. Worse, almost, than those detailing the untimely deaths of her parents. The latter were heavy with grief, but the former were shockingly raw and blatant, especially considering the era they had been written in. Rey’s toes had curled in her socks while reading, and not from delight.

“No,” she told him firmly, sitting up. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t afraid of childbirth- I think most people are- but I’m not afraid of your demon sperm.” Rey offered him a wry smile. “My past is what makes me hesitant, not the dimensions of my pelvis.”

Kylo crooked a smile of his own, at that, but it was slight. “I hate she carried that burden alone.” He sat beside her on the bed, head hanging low. “That’s what kept me walking for so long. Intellectually I know that Snoke was the one pulling the strings, pushing us apart and chipping away at our defenses and better selves, but I keep circling around to the way Kaydel looked at me when I unveiled my plan.” He rubbed his hand over his face, exhaling a shuddering sigh. “She looked so _sad,_ Rey, and so scared, and I never stopped to think that she might be scared of _me._”

“Why would you?” Rey asked, grabbing his hand. “He trapped you both, Kylo. He shoved you into different nightmares, manipulated your perspectives. By the time you made your separate choices your understanding of each other no longer aligned.”

He nodded, then said, “Eventually I’ll come to terms with that. I hope.”

“You will.” She scooted closer until they sat hip to hip, wrapping both hands around the one she still held. “It will come when it will come. And-”

Rey considered her words, unsure how to frame the feeling fluttering in her chest. “Just… just hold on to me,” she said finally. “I understand you.”

He reached for her, fingers tangling in her hair and mouth taking hers in a way both sweet and desperate. “I know,” he murmured, freeing his other hand and immediately wrapping that arm around her back. “My bride. My Rey.”

She fell back onto the bed, pulling him with her, and for a long stretch of time there was nothing in her mind but the feel of skin against skin and the drugging lure of each rocking thrust into her body, his lips trailing down her neck. It was gentle and slow and everything she hadn’t wanted their first night together, but in the wake of the day’s revelations mutual tenderness felt right, felt like the only thing that might act as a balm for the ache.

“I understand you, too,” he murmured as he held her close in the aftermath, one hand stroking her hair. “Never think that I don’t.”

“Mmm.” She snuggled into his hold, one knee hitched over his hip, and breathed in the scent of pine. _Mine mine mine._ “Are you hungry?”

She had a vague memory of seeing pizza on that room service menu, and maybe they should order salads as well if only to give the appearance of eating like actual adults, and-

Her eyes popped open, the thought of salad seeming to trigger memory, and memory blasted away fog, and then she was scrambling out of his arms to stand next to the bed, naked limbs shivering. “Arthur.”

Kylo sat up, frowning with what looked like confusion. “That’s not my name, sweetheart.”

“Arthur. Arthur is Snoke.” She raised her hands in a gesture of irritation. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. I can’t believe I let him snow me for so long, that cheating _bastard._ There he was, sitting at a booth every day being all slippery, and I-”

Kylo was on his feet halfway through her tirade, confusion replaced by steely determination. “Did he give you any gifts?” he interrupted, taking hold of her shoulders in a gentle grip that did not match his expression. “Notes? Tips?”

She snorted dismissively even as her stomach began to roil. “Tips aren’t _gifts._ They’re part of my pay. The government taxes them, for goodness sake.”

“He would see them as gifts, Rey.” He bent closer. “Especially if they were large. Did you accept them?”

For a moment she hesitated. “Yes,” she answered. “At first. I think… shit, I think I used some of that cash to buy your apron.”

He muttered what was likely a curse under his breath, then added in a more audible tone, almost to himself, “We can fix this.”

“Of course we can.” Rey wanted to stomp and snarl and threaten, but the object of her ire was god knows where. “We’re going to pound that snake into the dirt.”

“Rey-”

“I’m going to funnel holy water down his throat and watch him dissolve.” She scowled up at him, barely noticing that his expression had turned to one of almost dazed arousal. “No one hurts my husband and gets away with it.”

His hold turned caressing, fingertips brushing over her skin in idle circles. “He hurt you, too,” Kylo reminded her quietly, one corner of his mouth quirking up when she rolled her eyes. 

“Just another in a long line.”

The set of his jaw firmed, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. “I’d like to get a few blows in on your behalf.”

Rey allowed herself to lean her head against his shoulder, allowed her tense body to relax against his. Yes. Yes, he was right- they were partners, and would face Snoke together. “Husband,” she said, pressing a kiss against his collarbone, “let’s plot.”


	12. sweet bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to AlhenaCrimson for this [beautiful piece of fanart](https://twitter.com/AlhenaCrimson/status/1178971882973990912), and to Daae for this [awesome moodboard](https://twitter.com/ReyloOfTroy/status/1176739503806898176)!

“Let me see if I have this straight,” Rose said on the other end of the line after a heavy, meaningful pause. “Your hot demon spouse is a major supporting character in an obscure work of Gothic fiction-”

“Basically.”

“-and his old girlfriend married his uncle-”

“Yep.”

“-and you had a revelation that your creepy customer is also the guy responsible for ruining a bunch of lives-”

“Uh-huh.”

“-and even though you haven’t said anything about it, you’re definitely getting railed by Massive Dick McDemonTree.”

Rey looked to the other end of the couch, where Kylo was scrolling through something on his tablet, biting his lower lip. Teasingly, she stretched out one leg and poked his thigh with her toes, jerking her foot away when he tried to grab her ankle. “I am very, very married, for sure.”

“What does the ring look like?”

“Just like his.”

“You _sap,_” Rose said with a laugh. “I want more on that later, but for now- demon. The bad one, not the one making sweet love to you all night long.”

“I’m definitely keeping the latter and exterminating the former, which is why I’m wondering if you would be willing to give me Mitaka’s number.” 

“I mean, sure, but he was very serious about not doing exorcisms. When he was reading Poe the gentle riot act at dinner-”

Rey distantly heard Poe say, “Still quavering in my boots.”

“-he had a lot to say about how dangerous the ritual can be for everyone involved. Lots of talk about lawsuits.”

“Oh, we have no interest in involving him, we’re just wondering if he would be willing to give us some holy water. A lot of holy water. A vat, preferably.”

“Huh.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and then Rey heard Rose say- her voice muffled, as if she had turned away from the phone- “What’s Dop’s stance on giving non-Catholics holy water, do you think?”

Poe’s response of “He’s into blessing all and sundry, so probably positive” made Rey grin. 

“We’ll give him a call,” Rose told her. “How about we all have dinner when you’re back in town? You can make your case in person.”

Rey pulled her phone away from her ear, looking toward her husband. “Would dinner with Father Mitaka and Rose’s crew be fine with you?”

He nodded, and this time when he reached for her ankle she stayed still. “As soon as possible, preferably.”

As his fingers idly stroked her skin Rey returned to her call, smiling a little. “As quickly as you can manage, Rose. We can come back early, if need be.”

“I’ll see if he’s free Thursday, then; that’s the first night we’re available.” Rose’s voice lowered, giving her words a soft, coaxing air. “And that will give you a few more days to be honeymooners. Enjoy each other.”

And, Rey realized, that was exactly what she wanted. A short space of time with just Kylo. A calm before the storm.

Though the plotting was fun, too, even when- or perhaps especially when- their ideas turned ridiculous. “Holy water balloons,” she had suggested in the early hours of that very day, after they had eaten their late meal and drunk enough wine to be tipsy. “We could even sharpie some crosses on them.”

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” Kylo had asked in return with a mock-scowl, his hands creeping under her shirt, and when she laughed he had pulled her onto his lap and kissed her until laughter turned to sighs. 

“That’s how we survive, you know,” Rose was saying quietly on the other end of the line. “By saving what we love. So… so just be in love for a few days. I think it will help.”

“You are… you are very wise.” Rey pulled her ankle from Kylo’s grasp, shifting her position on the couch so that she was snuggled up next to him. With a soft smile, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Be careful, Rose. If weird things start happening, let us know.”

“The only thing weird here is Poe’s sudden obsession with videos of octopi on youtube.”

“They’re coming for us all. The escape artists of the sea!” Poe protested in the background. 

“I know, baby. Listen, Rey,” Rose said with an audible smile, “for the sake of marital peace I’m going to let him show me another video of an octopus picking a lock. Take care of yourselves, okay? I’ll text you the dinner details.”

“Deal- and thanks.”

Setting her phone aside, Rey rested her head on Kylo’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss against her hair, then asked, “You’re fine with staying a few more days?”

She curved one hand over his thigh, rubbing her thumb against denim. “I was ready to rush in, last night. Now I’m worried about what will happen when we return,” Rey admitted in a murmur. “I don’t know why I feel so safe in Chandrila. It’s not like he’s unable to do his work, here.”

“I think he’s busy elsewhere,” Kylo replied in an equally quiet tone.

“Me, too. That’s what I’m afraid of. But-”

Rey took in a breath, closing her eyes. “-but Rose said that we survive by saving what we love, and that we should spend some time just being in love. Maybe it’s selfish, but I want to follow that advice.”

“I don’t think that’s selfish.” He placed the tablet on the small end table, and then rested his hand over hers. “But I do think that we should buy her a very nice present.”

“I like the way you think.”

“She’s my favorite of your friends.”

“Pretty sure she’s your friend now, too.”

He kissed her gently, and for a moment it was easy to forget what waited for them. “Would my bride like to go for a stroll downtown?” he asked after, lips brushing over her cheek. 

“Yes.” It was a beautiful day, and she wanted just that. “Yes, she would.”

\- - -

They had a little over two days and made the most of them. Lazy mornings in bed, walks along the river, several baths that left the tile floor more wet than not, and one dinner in a restaurant so expensive that Rey was actually glad of their sexist, old-fashioned habit of handing female diners a menu without prices. 

“Stop trying to peek,” Kylo told her with a small grin, holding his own menu against his chest. 

“I need to keep tabs on how much of your money I have to donate to charity to balance out this extravagance.”

His grin softened into a warm smile. “Our money, not mine, and in that case…”

She scanned the prices when he handed the menu to her, blanched, and then returned it to him. “Just give me the total figure at the end of the night.”

It was, she later admitted begrudgingly to herself, one of the best meals she had ever eaten.

She did, however, dream. Not of her parents, nor of losing Kylo to some horrible fate, but of walking through their apartment as something unseen breathed in the shadows. Of being watched as she dressed, of long fingers sweeping over the back of her neck as she made coffee in the kitchen. Of her bowl of rings, shattered on the floor. 

“Hold on to me,” Kylo murmured in her ear after she woke from the first dream, her body shivering against his. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”

And she did, until the shivering stopped and her mind slipped into blessedly dreamless sleep. 

\- - -

“I think you should drive.”

“Are you ill?” Kylo asked her half-seriously, still holding out the car key toward her.

“I…”

Rey fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, trying to figure out the best way to word the patchwork of worry she had woken up with. “He can’t do anything to you directly that we know of,” she said after a moment. “But I took his gifts, even if I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time. He’s managed to cloud my mind before, and I keep thinking… thinking ‘what if he makes me steer the car into a tree?’” She shrugged. “Or across the median, or into a storefront.”

He considered her intently, and then dropped his hand with a slow nod. “I suppose.”

“Or,” she added quietly, twisting her ring around her finger, “what if he makes me kill you in my sleep.”

“Sweetheart,” he said in a soft, low murmur, stepping closer, “if he manipulates you into killing me we’ll both be awake to know.” 

When her gaze snapped upward he gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think he would enjoy the show half as much if I were unconscious and you weren’t cognizant.”

Rey scowled halfheartedly. “I think that’s encouraging. Maybe.”

“I’m holding on to you, and you’re holding on to me, and there will be no ideas about sleeping apart.” Kylo bent to kiss her forehead, his free hand cupping the back of her neck in a manner that left Rey feeling surprisingly safe, and not at all vulnerable. “You like having me around to keep you warm, in any case,” he teased, smile warming when she huffed. 

“You are better than a pile of blankets, I’ll give you that.” She hugged him quickly, rubbing her cheek over the soft wool of his sweater, but he snared her around the waist when she would have stepped back. “We should leave now, if we want to make it in time for dinner.”

“We have a minute.” 

When he slipped the fingers of one hand into a back pocket of her jeans she began to laugh, only putting a token effort into attempting to twist away. “We are in a parking lot.”

“I’m merely fetching a gift.”

“For me or for you?” she asked as he withdrew his hand.

“For you.” Kylo unfurled his fingers, revealing a new ring in the well of his palm. The sapphires were so dark a blue as to be nearly black, offset by small, starry diamonds. “I rather liked the tradition,” he explained, a note of uncertainty in his voice. “I suppose I could branch out to necklaces, earrings…”

Rey snugged the new ring up against her gold band, feeling an unexpected warmth fill her chest. “It could be fun switch them out,” she murmured, and then flashed him a smile that was a little teasing, a little shy. “Though I’d prefer not to get to the point where we actually have to build that ring shed.”

“But you might accept one occasionally?” he asked, taking her hand in his. 

“I could do that.”

“Good.” He brushed his thumb over the bands, and then pressed a kiss to her fingers. “When you asked for a ring, I would have been thrilled to give you anything you desired,” he told her softly. “When I saw the one your heart called for… I was very happy, Rey. I still am, every time I see it on your hand.”

“I thought it was practicality, but… Rose called me a sap. She might be right.”

“Maybe I bring the romantic out in you.”

“Maybe.” A brisk wind picked up, but Rey barely noticed. “If anyone could, it would be you.”

He kissed her hand again, lips warm against her skin. “Are you ready to set out?”

“Yes.”

“You pick the music.” He offered her a small, intimate smile. “I still have a lot to catch up on.”

\- - -

The city Rey had lived in for nearly six years seemed full of unexpected shadows, but to her relief she didn’t feel the slightest urge to grab the wheel from Kylo’s hands. She just felt… cold. Even a little queasy, though as her period was only a day or so away that wasn’t entirely unexpected. 

“How do you feel?” she asked her husband, fingers twining tightly together in her lap. 

“Better than you, I think.” There was a pause, and when he spoke again what little levity had been in his voice was gone. “But it does feel… heavy… doesn’t it?”

“Was it like this before we left?”

“Maybe. We might have been used to it.”

“Or it crept up in intensity, like water heating to a boil.” Rey scrutinized her side of the street, seeing nothing out of place. “We should burn that apron. Just in case.”

“I happen to like that apron,” Kylo replied, tone unruffled even as his hands tightened on the wheel. 

“It might be tainted by Snoke’s money.”

“It was your first gift to me, and I intend to keep it.”

She looked toward him, mood gentling despite the weight of the city. “I could buy you a thousand aprons.”

“But there will never be that first one,” he replied softly. “Not again. You barely knew me. You bought it on a whim.”

“Because I enjoy the way you look in them,” she murmured. “And I knew you would like it.”

“I do. And I refuse to give it up just because Snoke tricked you into taking his gifts.” His grip on the wheel relaxed. “I’m going to cook you breakfast wearing that apron on every anniversary until it’s only rags.”

Rey grinned down at her hands, unclasping them and flexing her fingers. “I’ll have to buy you a few more, then. To make it last as long as possible.”

“Please do.” 

They arrived at their friends’ apartment building, parking in the visitor lot. “If he pulls out anything holy, duck behind me,” Rey said before Kylo could do so much as unbuckle his seatbelt, and delighted in his warm smile. 

“I couldn’t find a better shield.”

“I’m not sure about that, but-”

He interrupted her with a kiss, leaning over the console and jostling their empty coffee cups. “None better,” he said firmly after pulling back a little, one hand still tangled in her hair. “What you lack in height you more than make up for in attitude.”

Rey grinned, blushing. “Story of my life.”

“My lady knight,” he said with a soft smile as he sat back. “My protectress.”

“Says the man who has to duck going through our apartment door.”

“I suffer out of love for you, my darling.”

Rey stilled, her hand on the door-latch. “Kylo,” she said quietly, looking out him out of the corner of her eye, “if that house is still available… we should look at it. If you like.”

“I think it is,” he replied in an equally quiet voice. “I’ll check.”

“Okay.”

\- - -

Father Mitaka- or Dop, as he had insisted after they arrived- was just as likable the second time around. More, perhaps, now that Rey knew that he had spent an entire evening ribbing Poe for springing a surprise exorcism on him. Rey had a great deal of respect for anyone who could bring Poe to heel, even temporarily, and she wished she had been a fly on the wall for that particular dinner.

“It appears everyone has come to terms with your marriage,” Dop said diplomatically as they sat together in the living room, the others- including Kylo, who had been tugged into the kitchen by Rose- out of sight. “How are you?”

“Happy in my choice of husband,” Rey told him. “Though we do have an issue to discuss with you.”

His expression turned wary. “Does it involve casting out demons?”

“Not on your part.”

He considered her for a long moment, and- miraculously- that seemed to have been the right answer. Or one that intrigued him, at least. “Are you ghost-hunters?” he asked unexpectedly.

Rey bit her lower lip. “Not the traditional kind.”

“Because I’m happy to give you crucifixes or holy water,” he continued. “What you do with them is really none of my business.” Dop laced his fingers together loosely, looking far more composed than anyone else Rey knew in their general age range. “If having them makes you feel better, who am I to keep them from you?” 

Rey stared at him, drawn in and unnerved at the same time. “It could be a sex thing,” she said bluntly. 

“It’s not.”

“Well.” She frowned, grabbing her glass of wine. “It isn’t. But. It could be.”

“But it isn’t.” When she glared at him, he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I-”

Dop paused, gaze a little distant, and then continued. “I think… I think it’s what you’re willing to give that matters,” he said finally. “What that person does with your gift is separate. So.” He focused on Rey, eyes gentle. “What can I do for you?”

After tossing back a healthy swallow of wine, she pulled out the hastily scribbled list she had made on the drive. “Holy water for sure,” she said. “I don’t suppose we could get bullets forged from lead taken from a church roof.”

“I’m afraid my willingness to give doesn’t involve bullets, from a church roof or otherwise.”

“Fair. Do they make rosaries long enough to bind someone’s hands?”

“Now I’m beginning to think it _is_ a sex thing,” he half-joked. “Or you’re hunting werewolves.”

“Nope; still just demons.”

“But not your husband.”

“The demon stalking my husband.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, face averted, and then picked up his own glass of wine. “How about you tell me the entire story, from the beginning.”

And she did, pausing only once when Mitaka stood to grab the bottle of wine from the table and refill both their glasses. At one point Kylo briefly joined them, but he didn’t interrupt; he merely dropped a kiss on Rey’s hair before once more disappearing into the kitchen when Rose called out a question.

“So,” Rey said at the very end, feeling the effects of two glasses of wine on a relatively empty stomach, “so that’s that. What do you think holy water does to demons, by the way? Do you think he’ll melt into goo like the Wicked Witch of the West?”

“I think I’m going to be sleeping on Poe’s couch tonight,” he muttered. “I-”

Dop finished his glass, clearly thinking the matter over, and when he continued his words were hushed, almost confessional. “I believe you.”

Three simple words, but they eased a part of Rey that had been wound tight. “Thank you.”

“Someone asked me once if it was possible to believe in science and in a spiritual realm, and I said yes. Some things are unexplainable. Some things transcend mortal understanding. Some things just are.” He laughed a little, something in his expression hinting that maybe, maybe he was recalling a few odd experiences of his own. “But I won’t start philosophizing. Come to my church tomorrow; I’ll have the holy water ready for you. Just- just promise me one thing, please.”

“What?”

“No violence.” He leveled a very serious look on her. “If it turns out you’re wrong, it’s one thing to dump a glass of water over someone’s head. It’s another to play Dexter and physically harm an innocent man.”

Rey was personally hoping to get in at least one good punch, but Dop didn’t need to know that. “Agreed.”

“Just avoid doing anything that would get you more than a roll of the eyes from a cop, okay?”

She snorted, but found that she now understood very well why Poe held on to this friendship so tightly. “That’s the plan. The bullets thing was a bad joke; shouldn’t have said it.”

“I mean, the historical precedent is there, but the practice hasn’t aged well.”

Rey laughed, leaning forward to divide what was left in the bottle between them. “So no crossbow bolts made of blessed silver either, I guess.”

“This isn’t Buffy, you know.”

“How about a Holy Hand Grenade?”

“I’m already regretting agreeing to this entire endeavor.”


	13. ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to curiousniffin, who made an awesome moodboard for this fic that you can see [here](https://twitter.com/curiousniffin/status/1183555048569233408). Those rings are now a canonical part of Rey's hoard.

“He’s waiting out in the car, isn’t he?”

“I think he’s afraid of catching fire,” Rey told Dop dryly with an apologetic smile. 

He raised a brow, looking unconvinced. “Have either of you considered that he might still be entirely human?” he asked. “I mean, being caught up in demonic activity doesn’t change DNA or cell structure. Probably.”

Rey raised her left hand, wriggling her fingers so that the emeralds she wore caught the light. The night before she had begun to try on the contents of her bowl while Kylo prepared for bed, and the look on his face when he had caught her in the act- and the way his walk had morphed into something more like a prowl as he made his way to the bed- had gone a long way in seducing her out of every stitch, leaving her bare save the half-dozen rings she had been wearing. “He magics these out of thin air,” she said, shoving aside the memory before her blush could deepen. “Once, a button fell off of my shirt and he reattached it in less than five seconds, no needle or thread involved.”

“Having unearthly powers isn’t the same as being a demon.” 

“True, but-”

Rey bit her lower lip, then mumbled, “But we don’t know, and I don’t want to lose him to carelessness.” 

“Ahh.” His expression needed no gentling, but she sensed it nonetheless. “A fair point. I’ll carry this to the car for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course not.” He picked up the full gallon jug with a grin. “But I want to say hello to Kylo, so I might as well.”

It was a gray, drizzly day, and Rey held her umbrella over both of their heads as they made their way to the parking lot. Kylo popped the trunk for them when they drew close, and after tucking the jug safely away they walked over to the driver’s side window. 

“You’ll let me know how everything turns out, I hope,” Dop said after they exchanged greetings. “Preferably not from jail.”

“We’re aiming to avoid being noticed by the law at all,” Kylo replied, a slight lift to the corners of his mouth. “But surely you would visit us in prison.”

“Christ was very clear on that matter, so yes, but I would give you my best ‘forgiving but very disappointed look’.” 

“Terrifying.” Kylo’s smile grew. “Definitely worse than prison.”

“And I do have one other thing.” Dop reach into the pocket of his button-down shirt, pulling out a small cross on a long, thin chain. “I thought you might find it comforting at work,” he explained to Rey, holding out the necklace. “Seeing as your demon makes a habit of appearing there.”

“Thank you.” Rey accepted the gift, curling her fingers over the pooling metal links. “This was actually on my list of things to acquire today, so you’ve saved us a trip.”

He looked pleased. “Your average jewelry store offering doesn’t come pre-blessed. Stay safe, both of you.”

And before she could offer to walk him back to the door he was off, running through the light rain and over the threshold.

Inside the car, Rey carefully zipped the necklace into an interior pocket of her purse. “He doesn’t think you’re a demon.”

When she looked up, Kylo was frowning in the direction of the church. “He hasn’t met many, I’m guessing,” he said after a moment.

“Probably not, but still. He thinks you’re human.” She scrubbed her palms against her jeans, as if doing so would rid her hands of any lingering trace of blessings. “I’m not saying you should down a shot of holy water, but… but I thought that was interesting.” 

Kylo started the car, quiet, and then said, “I would certainly like that to be true.”

\- - -

Rey started her first shift after vacation with the cross tucked under her shirt, a small bottle of holy water in one pocket, and the pearl ring in the other. She would have preferred to wear the ring, but the thought of damaging the pearls or getting grease in the setting kept sentimentality in check. 

“Be careful,” Kylo had said before she left, the words almost a plea. “Please.”

“As careful as I can be.”

“I could come with you.”

Rey had drawn him down for a kiss, at that, longing to say _yes._ “The plan is to ask him to meet alone. He won’t agree if you’re there glaring at him.”

“He might.”

“And he might not.” She had kissed him again, fingertips slipping over his hair. “Stay here. Stay safe.”

And now she was on her own, surrounded by customers mid-dinner rush and back in the swing of things. 

“The ring is new,” Maz said with a grin when she came to collect food for table two. “You wear it like it’s a part of you.”

She was right, Rey realized. In only a week she had gone from touching the band at every spare moment to feeling naked whenever she had to take it off. “It is.”

“How’s your handsome husband?”

“Still very handsome,” Rey answered with a smile, balancing a full tray on one hand.

Maz laughed, turning away to stir a pot of soup. “I’ve got a piece of peach pie with his name on it, when he arrives to drive you home.”

Rey delivered plates of food, refilled drinks, made change and bussed tables with a lightness she hadn’t expected to feel. The city still seemed full of shadows- and her menstrual cramps, only dulled by painkillers, were not pleasant- but the brightness of the diner was comforting and familiar, and for a while she almost forgot who might make an appearance.

And then she looked toward his favorite booth, and there he was. A demon in human guise, smiling at her in a far too knowing fashion. 

“You’re a smart girl,” he said when she delivered his water with lemon, before she could even say a word. “I can tell by just the look in your eyes that you know my name.”

Rey met his gaze, trying to project an air that was more nervousness than hatred. “Snoke.”

The chatter of patrons and the clink of silverware against porcelain died. Every person in the vicinity, save Snoke and herself, froze in place.

“Nice trick,” she told him, not bothering to hide just how much the suspension of time rattled her. 

“And a small one. I can do far greater things.” He slid a photograph to the edge of the table, and when Rey looked down she saw that the subjects caught on film moved. Her adult self and the older parents she had dreamed of, all of them laughing as they posed for the camera. “I can give you this.”

“I don’t want _that,_” she snapped before she could stop herself. Playing along was the scheme; luring him to a location away from people her goal. Rey dipped her head, allowing a tremor to slip into her whispered, “I want these games to stop.”

“And they will, once you pay your debt.” 

When she instinctively took a step back he smiled, the stretch of his mouth just a little too wide to be completely natural. “My early offerings were not so much gifts as a down-payment,” he told her. “An investment, if you will. I have my hooks in you just as thoroughly as if you had sought me out with a wish.”

“Tips are nothing out of the ordinary,” she replied nervously. “Tips are an expected part of a dining transaction.”

“Tips used to keep you fed and warm. If your _husband_-”

He sneered the word that she took such delight in at any other time, tainting it. “-disappeared, tips would keep a roof over your head. They are as vital to you as breath.”

“Well, he is my husband.” She watched as he picked up his glass, taking a long sip, and a part of Rey wished that she had just dumped holy water in his drink. If it weren’t for the inevitable chaos that would follow a man melting or catching on fire or crumbling to ash, she would have. “I’ve accepted his ring and we’ve consummated the marriage. His terms are fulfilled.”

Snoke shrugged in a careless, unbothered manner. “I’m a collector, you see.” With one finger he drew a random pattern in the ring of dew left by the cold glass. “A connoisseur of despair.”

_Fancy,_ she thought sourly. 

“And you are a conniving little brat,” he said calmly, and she knew in that moment that he had seen through her ploy. “Playing a game far too advanced for your small mind. But it is, I suppose, possible that I’ve misunderstood you.” 

For the space of a second a swirling sigil made of water droplets glowed on the tabletop, and then disappeared. Under Rey’s blouse the cross grew hot enough to burn, and she jerked it away from her skin, dragging it to the outside of the fabric.

“You are no longer a child crying for mama, after all. You’re a woman caught by carnal desires.”

The air, the mood, shifted in a way that was almost tangible, and his voice dropped to a low croon. “A woman emotionally scarred, and wise enough to know that he will eventually leave you. Because everyone leaves you. Don’t they, Rey? Eventually they see you for the snarling little gremlin you are, and then they disappear. And one day your husband will wake up to find himself in bed with a mangy wolf when what he really, really wants is a soft little lamb- and when that happens, he will take his love and his support and leave you penniless and broken.”

“That isn’t true,” she shot back, outraged. It was a lie, a manipulation of the cruelest kind, and Rey knew it- but nonetheless a hoarse, almost desperate note imbued the words. 

But maybe that was better. Maybe letting him know that he had successfully scored a point would draw him in.

“It is.” He stood, so tall that his head nearly brushed the ceiling. “But I’m not a merciless master, and you amuse me,” he said quietly, words slippery, and gently took hold of her chin. “I can offer you certainty. Finish your deal with me, and Ben Solo will never leave you. He will _never_ stop loving you.”

_Lure him away. Make him think-_

“I need to think,” Rey blurted out, horrified at the idea of turning Kylo into some kind of mindless slave. She wanted to twist away, to plant her fist in Snoke’s jaw, but her body refused to do so much as twitch. “I need time.”

He considered her, expression giving away nothing, and just when she thought he might acquiesce his mouth curved into a sly smile. “Perhaps what you need is a taste.”

Her throat grew tight with dread. “Of what?”

“Of your life without.”

Rage broke whatever hold he had on her, but when she raised her arms to shove at his chest he was gone, and she stumbled forward in a bruising collision with the edge of the booth.

The empty booth.

“You okay?” Anna asked, brow furrowed with concern when Rey straightened, shaking. Around them people ate and talked, a few snickering over Rey’s sudden clumsiness. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I-”

Rey paused, taking stock of herself. There was a worn spot in the right knee of her jeans, and her sneakers were old and battered. The little bottle of holy water, the pearl ring, the cross, all gone- and worse, her left hand was once again bare.

“I think I need to go home,” Rey managed to whisper, fear sinking to her very marrow. 

\- - -

She sprinted the entire way, barely taking the time to give Maz some semblance of an excuse and grab her things. Rey didn’t even put on her sweater- a hoodie that had clearly been washed countless times, emblazened with a fading logo for Batuu University- but simply held it in one clenched fist as she flew down the sidewalk, lungs protesting the cold air and sudden burst of activity.

Her key still slid neatly in the lock, but the silence and dark of the apartment told her immediately, forcefully, that Kylo was not waiting somewhere within to greet her. No kiss, no concerned questions about her early arrival or windblown state, no hands drawing her close to chase the chill from her limbs. Hints of him, however, remained: the textbooks she had bought for that first semester of classes waited on the table, now battered and much thumbed through. A pair of his shoes still rested neatly next to the door. The stand mixer that he had purchased was on the counter, gathering dust.

Throat tight, Rey made her way to the bedroom, fervently hoping to find him asleep, dark hair spread over a pillow- but flipping on the overhead light revealed only a hurriedly made bed, pillows piled on one side. Her side. 

The hiccuped sob that tore from her throat caught her by surprise, and when she stepped forward to pull out the bit of flowery fabric peeking from beneath a pillow and found herself holding the apron, that one sob turned to an absolutely inescapable wash of tears.

Gone. Stolen from her as easily as someone else might snap their fingers, and if Snoke could do this based solely on the power of Rey taking _tips,_ then what was there to do? What else could _he_ do? 

Shaking as much with rage as fear, she sat heavily on the side of the bed, tears dripping down her cheeks unabated as she examined the items on top of her bedside table. The bowl of rings remained, its contents heavily depleted- only five were left, but the papers beneath the porcelain explained why. A scarily high bill from the local hospital for the care of a broken bone (and when she looked at her left forearm, there it was: a new scar), letters from her insurance company explaining why they were only paying a pittance of the cost and denying her appeals, and two receipts for sales made to a local jeweler. 

And at the bottom of the stack, a letter handled so often that the folds were worn soft. 

_Rey, _

_I never wanted to write this letter, but now I find that I must._

He had lovely handwriting, her husband, Rey thought numbly as she skimmed the lines. She had noticed it before, and even as the words tore at her heart she couldn’t help but notice it again. 

“But this is fake,” she reminded herself, allowing the letter to flutter to the floor. “This is a trick.”

The knowledge didn’t stop old wounds from aching, or dry her tears. Heart and mind simply refused to sync, and it was easier to let herself curl up in blankets that no longer smelled of pine and give in to weeping. Easier, and better, to allow herself the outlet rather than to think on the one insidious thought that threatened to ruin everything: _beg for him back. Beg for the deal. Screw your pride._

She bit one of the pillows rather than risk a traitorous tongue, and- apron crumpled in one fist- waited for an end. 

Whether the end would be of her tears or the waking nightmare, she wasn’t quite sure. 

\- - -

The tears ended first, she would come to find. The nightmare, by the time she slipped into sleep, was still very present.

And it was equally present the next morning. 

And present when she made her way across town, and found her friends’ apartment occupied by strangers. 

And present when she texted Rose and Poe and Finn with not a single response. 

And present when she slid her thumb across the webbed, cracked screen of her phone and called the number listed under _Kylo,_ only to have his very familiar voice pick up with a sigh and a curt “Rey, we’ve been over this.”

And present when the lights above her head flicked off entirely, due to- she knew instinctively- an unpaid bill. 

“Time to pawn another ring,” she said aloud without quite thinking, stomach clenching with hunger.

She fell asleep on the couch, in the dark, alone and friendless- but over the course of the day, determination had won out over fear. 

Like hell would she let that absolute fucker of a demon back her into a corner. 

\- - -

“_Rey._”

Rey had never heard someone say her name in just such a panicked manner before, but she had never woken up on the diner floor, either, a paramedic kneeling over her. A shift of her gaze caught Kylo at her side, his hands wrapped around one of her own. Belatedly she heard the buzz of conversation from excited and concerned customers, felt the inevitable ache that was the result of crumpling to the floor without catching her fall. She had definitely hit her head.

She scowled when the paramedic shone a light into her eyes, trying not to turn her head away. “I don’t have a concussion.”

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“Rey Johnson.” She paused, blinking. “I think there’s maple syrup in my hair.”

He smiled a little. “Looks like it.”

Rey did not want to go to the hospital, and in the end, she did not, but only because she fought against it with every weary fiber of her being. “Do you know how much that shit costs?” she asked Kylo when he tried to convince her otherwise, and was obscurely delighted by his glower in return. 

“Do you think I care?”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She dragged herself to her feet despite the protests of nearly everyone around her, needing to _leave_. “I want to go home.”

“Rey-”

“Take me home.” 

And he did. He pouted and hunched his shoulders upward in instinctive posturing, Maz tutted with an indefinable look in her eyes, and the customers gawked, but Rey got her wish- though the paramedic did give her husband a list of instructions, which she supposed was for the best.

“You are so _stubborn,_” Kylo muttered as he started the car. “You could be deathly ill.”

“I-”

“My mother never fainted a day in her life before she entered her decline.”

Rey hesitated, feeling guilty that she hadn’t even considered that angle. “I’m not sick.”

“You’re also not increasing, so it isn’t that.”

He sounded a little wistful, and her reply was soft and sad, rather than annoyed. “You would like children, wouldn’t you?”

“Only if you were happy about it.”

This was not the time, nor the place, to be having such a conversation, but they would never be what anyone called ordinary- and in any case, she couldn’t tell him exactly what had happened while he was still behind the wheel. With a muffled groan she leaned awkwardly over the console, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’m scared of being left,” she explained as he drove. “But I’m also scared of being that one that leaves. The one that uses someone smaller as a shield.”

He was quiet for a moment, but then- on stopping for a red light- moved his right hand over to her knee, warm and comforting. “Says the woman who is my shield, and who fights like the devil when I try to be hers.”

She huffed a laugh, wincing at the ache in her head. “I’m practiced in baring my teeth at predators, but not so much in hiding behind someone else.”

“We could always try fighting back to back.”

“That might work.” As he turned into their lot she straightened, dreading the flights of stairs between them and home- but then she looked toward her husband, envisioning for not the first time his strong arms cradling a dark-haired infant. “After this is all over,” she said quietly, speaking aloud a thought that had been at the back of her mind for a while, “I want to talk with a therapist. About… about my past. And the future.”

Just expressing the wish made her feel better, as if making plans for a post-Snoke era was powerful in and of itself.

“Of course.”

“Therapy doesn’t sound weird to you, my tree?”

He laughed softly, turning off the ignition. “From what I’ve read, it sounds like something I would look into myself, were my story not quite so unbelievable.”

“Fair.” 

He was out of the car and at her door before she could do more than unbuckle her seatbelt and set her hand on the handle, and then she was up in a bridal carry after the vehicle was locked. 

“You don’t need to do this.”

“But I want to.”

His face was set in a stubborn cast when they passed under a light. There would be no arguing with him on this matter, but- Rey admitted to herself- she didn’t really want to argue. She might have only been unconscious for a short amount of time, but the day Snoke had foisted on her felt as real as any lived day, and far more torturous. She wanted to be close. She wanted to be cared for. She wanted _him._

Tears pricking at her eyelids, she nestled into him, curling her fingers over the collar of his sweater. “Okay.”

Inside, he placed her gently on the couch, settling on his knees in front of her. When he skimmed one hand down her side, looking on the verge of asking a question, she whispered, “You know what happened.” 

He held still for a long moment, and then nodded once, jerkily. 

“You guessed.”

“After the initial panic passed,” he admitted in a low voice. “For the first time in my life, I would have preferred something medical.”

“Same, honestly.” Rey cupped his face in her hands, feeling the softness of his skin and the slight scratch of a day’s worth of scruff. “He said I was in debt to him,” she said, voice raw, what self-possession she had left dissolving. “But that if I were willing to make a deal, he would make sure you never left me.”

“Sweetheart.” 

“I didn’t.” 

He moved closer, inserting his body between her knees. “I know.” 

“He made me live what would happen if you left. Because I was too clingy. Your farewell was worded more prettily, but that was the gist of it. I didn’t beg, though. I just cried.”

“_Rey_.” He looked as if he had been struck, as if he were seconds from tears himself. “Rey, I would cry, too.”

“And it lasted so long.” She sniffed, throat and head aching and tears coming _again._ “Just me sitting in a cold apartment, alone, and when I called you I could hear some other woman laughing in the background and you were so impatient to be rid of me and-”

“Never.”

“-and I missed you so _badly._” Rey released him, lifting her hands to roughly swipe at her cheeks. “Not the money. Not the things. Just you.”

She was on his lap in what felt like an instant, and with a choked sob she pressed herself as close as possible, _this is real this is real this is real_ constant in her mind. “I want to kick him in the face,” she breathed, fisting one hand in her husband’s shirt. 

Kylo had his face buried in her hair, not seeming to care that some strands were sticky with syrup. “I’ll hold him down for you.”

“I want to tear his heart out.”

“I don’t think he has one.”

“No.” She took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she asked him to strip and stretch out over her like the best possible weighted blanket. “I want a drink.”

His grip on her tightened, limbs trembling slightly. “You can’t have any alcohol, not yet.”

“A nap.”

“Not yet.”

“A bath?” she asked pitifully, knowing that his caution was well-meant but needing some kind of normalcy. 

“That.” He lifted his head, eyes red and cheeks streaked with tears, his mouth soft. “That, sweetheart, I can do.”

And -sweetly, carefully, tenderly- he washed her hair, bundled her into clean pajamas, and made her a pot of instant mac and cheese. They talked of light things by unspoken agreement, Kylo keeping her from sleep until an alarm went off on his phone. 

When she woke up late the next morning, her husband wrapped around her, there was a band of braided gold on her right hand.


	14. cypress

“Hmm.”

That was not the same satisfied hum Kylo generally made before tempting her into sleepy morning sex- it was far too contemplative for that- but he was caressing her arm with what felt like intent. Rey, who felt rather like she had gone several rounds in a prize fight, and was not at all pleased to be awake, curled up in a defensive ball under the covers. “What are you doing?” she mumbled, attempting to draw her arm toward her chest. 

He kept hold of her, thumb brushing over her skin. “I want to try something.”

She half-opened her eyes, annoyance growing when she spotted the bruise on her arm. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Do you think me such a monster, that I would bed you while injured?” he asked in a distracted tone, leaning over her body to get a better look. “I’ve never thought about it before, but I might…”

As she watched, his thumb made another light pass over the bruise- and the mark faded. 

And with it, the ache. 

Another pass, and then another, and then it was as if her arm had never been injured at all. For a moment they were both silent, and then Kylo spoke, voice low and firm. “Take off your clothes so that I can find the rest.”

She didn’t argue, but instead wriggled out of her overlarge t-shirt with a pained grunt. Lying back in the tangle of sheets, she considered him as he arrowed in on another bruise. “Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Healing.” She would shove him away, if that were the case. Lock herself in the bathroom until he gave up the notion, maybe take a nice bath while he argued with her through the door- assuming, of course, that he didn’t just spell away the lock and barge in. 

He shook his head, fingers hooking in the waistband of her underwear. “It feels no different than conjuring a ring or upgrading the mattress. It simply is. And take this off.”

“I’ll get blood on the sheets.”

“Which are priceless articles, impossible to replace, of course.”

“No need for sarcasm.” With a huff she stripped bare, turning onto her stomach so that he could deal with the bruising on her ass. 

In less than ten minutes every trace of her fainting fit was gone, save for the low pulse of her headache. She shook her head slightly when he helped her into a sitting position, one hand cupping the back of her skull. “I’m not sure you should be messing with my brain.” When he looked ready to protest she offered him a small smile. “You might awaken some odd superpower. I’m not interested in becoming a caped crusader.”

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Rey.”

“I mean, telekinesis might be handy if I ever needed to clear an avalanche, or something.” It felt good, to tease him like this, to sit with him in the pool of sunlight slanting through the window onto the bed. Rey did not feel _well_, exactly- the previous day’s trauma still clung, still seemed to send tremors through her foundation- but at that moment she felt almost steady. “But useless, otherwise.”

“What about super strength?” he asked, his other arm cuddling her close. “X-ray vision?”

“You’re the only person I want to see naked.”

“I just want to make you feel better.” He kissed her forehead, his tone coaxing. “No superpowers, I swear.”

Tempted, she countered, “No reading my mind, either.” 

“What would I find, if I did?”

She tentatively relaxed into him, admitting softly, “An island. You and me, somewhere warm and sunny, covered in sunscreen.”

“After,” he promised. “After this is done, I’ll see you frolicking on a beach.”

“Have you ever seen the ocean?”

“No.” Another kiss, his fingertips rubbing her scalp soothingly. “I’m glad my first time will be with you.”

“Me, too.” Steeling herself, she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “Go on, then. Carefully.”

The healing of her bruises hadn’t felt like anything, save for a gradual absence of aches and stiffness. The healing of her minor concussion (telling the paramedic otherwise, to her consternation, hadn’t changed reality) was similar, and yet not: a gentle touch that wasn’t a touch seemed to skim over her mind, calming inflammation and washing away the pulse of pain. When the sensation disappeared Rey was at her usual level of early morning alertness, though perhaps a little more tired than was customary. 

“I didn’t mean to,” he said apologetically, “but I think I saw your island. It didn’t look very sunny.”

“Steep cliffs and mist?” When he nodded she smiled a little, feeling almost nostalgic. “I used to dream of that island, when I was a kid. I haven’t in… in a few years, at this point.”

“Do you want to find it? Someplace like it?”

Rey thought on his offer, on actually taking him up on that fool’s errand, and then shook her head. “It’s like… like that’s a path a different me might have taken,” she tried to explain. As a child she had been drawn to the crashing waves and craggy rocks, had found an odd solace in every night spend wandering well-worn paths, but those memories now felt cold and lonely. “We’ll find our own island. Together.”

Her stomach rumbled, and at the sound the set of his mouth softened. “My wife needs breakfast, I think.”

“Please.” Rey looked down, catching a glimpse of crimson against flower-sprigged sheets. “I’ll take a shower and strip the bed.”

Halfway to the bathroom she paused, a drop of blood trickling down her inner thigh. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Your courses?” Kylo looked confused at the question. “Why would such a thing bother me?”

“Some men find it disgusting.”

“Some men are too squeamish.” He dragged on the shirt she had discarded, which on him was nearly too tight. “There’s nothing more natural.”

She opened her mouth, and then- reconsidering- closed it with a nod and an unspoken thought: _I wish I had met your mother._

\- - -

“I’m going to summon him.”

“Like hell you will.”

“I’m not going to let him throw you into nightmare after nightmare until you break.” Kylo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Though as that might take years, perhaps he would tire of the entire endeavor and move on to easier prey.”

An odd compliment born out of frustration, but Rey would take it. “It wouldn’t be the first time I annoyed someone into going away.”

“I’d rather expend my energy clothing you in jewels than spend countless mornings healing your wounds.”

“Sounds impractical.”

“You would be easy to find in a crowd.”

She laughed, feeling on edge. “A little too easy, I think. I’m not an idol to be draped in gold.”

“No.” He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. “You’re more precious than that.”

Rey nibbled at a piece of bacon, thinking hard- and then slid her socked foot under the table, rubbing it against his. “Kylo.”

He didn’t respond, though his foot did nudge minutely against hers. 

“Kylo, if I’m truly in debt to him, he has the upper hand.”

“No,” he bit out. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s fact, not opinion.”

“I’m disinclined to believe whatever he has to say.” 

“You were the one who first asked if I had accepted any gifts.”

“Well.” His voice dropped to a mumble, gaze lowering. “Perhaps I was wrong.”

“Husband.” When he looked up- not quite raising his head, more a peek- she stood, rounding the table to him. “I think, in this situation, we should be planning for the worst. He has me by the throat. Let’s start there.”

Kylo pulled her down to his lap, burying his face in her still-damp hair. “Rey.”

“If you disappear,” she said, casting about for any argument that might sway him, “I will spend the rest of my life proposing marriage to every tree I pass. Just in case you were considering a supernatural divorce.” His arms tightened around her waist. “You’ll have to stick around and save me from the bother of collecting a harem of tree spouses. Though it might be fun to try to find one of every kind.”

When he actually growled in response she felt a surge of relief. “Chestnut, oak, cherry… though I am partial to pine, so-”

“_Rey_.” He shifted so that they were face to face, expression grumpy. “I won’t leave. It was just an idea.”

“Good, because having a harem sounds exhausting. Like a job, instead of a source of pleasure. I would have to make schedules, solve disputes…”

“Anyone else idiotic enough to fall for this particular trick will have to find their own spouse; you’re mine.”

“Hey.” She cupped his unshaven cheek tenderly. “Don’t talk about my very intelligent husband that way.” Sensing he needed yet another distraction, she tipped her head back. “By the way, is there anything under my chin? Snoke touched me there, and-”

Rey hesitated, not wanting to admit how much that brief touch still bothered her. It had been cold, too cold, and she could still pinpoint the exact location where his skin had marked hers. 

Kylo spoke before she could make up her mind, his voice low and soft. “Here, sweetheart?” he asked, the pad of one finger brushing over sensitive skin. “Nothing. Not a single blemish.” He pressed a kiss right on the spot, his warmth chasing away any lingering chill. “You aren’t allowed to turn into a tree either, wife, in case you were considering sacrificing yourself.”

“I wasn’t.”

Just briefly. Barely enough to count. 

“Hmm.” He didn’t sound as if he believed her, but he said nothing more on the matter. Instead, he tucked her head against his shoulder, his cheek resting against her hair. “What do you want to do?”

Maz wouldn’t expect her back at work for a week- she had been firm on that matter the night before, from what Rey could recall- so they might as well use that time to hunt a demon. Or attempt to hunt a demon, at least, given how poorly Rey’s first attempt at misleading him had gone. “Does he know you can heal?” she asked. “Would he expect you to use that power on me?” 

“Yes to the first, maybe to the second,” Kylo answered thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely sure what he thinks of me or my motives.”

Rey considered that, idly rubbing a fold of his shirt between her fingers. “From his perspective,” she said slowly, musing aloud, “would you be better off with or without me?”

“Without,” Kylo said immediately. “He doesn’t understand love. He likely sees our relationship as… as parasitic. At best, symbiotic.”

“I mean, in a skewed kind of sense a good relationship is symbiotic.”

“Emotion doesn’t come into play with him.” Kylo toyed with a lock of her hair, settling her more comfortably on his lap. “Not the softer emotions, at least. Hatred, lust, greed… those he understands enough to exploit. He would see you as a stumbling block to freedom, as my enemy.”

_That’s how we survive, you know. By saving what we love._

The words echoed in Rey’s mind, her gaze drifting to the apron she had bought weeks before, along with the thought that she wasn’t that good at love. Not in the classical sense. Her first response to danger was always to strike out, not to hold close. Not to hide. 

“What are you thinking?” her husband asked quietly. 

“If I’m really your enemy, he should be content to let you suffer my presence.”

“But then you wouldn’t suffer.”

“We can’t have that,” she said dryly. 

“Rey.” His thumb swept over her bottom lip, and when he tried to nudge her face upward she turned away into the crook of his neck. “What’s on your mind?”

She wasn’t quite sure how to express her roiling thoughts of _can love be a weapon and if so how and if so I can’t and-_

What came out instead was: “I’m not soft.”

His tone, when he replied, was uncertain. “In what way?”

“Love is supposed to be soft, isn’t it? All flowers and wine. I’m… I’m not.”

She could tell that he understood, when he spoke next. He had followed her winding rabbit trail; he knew her well. “We have our own flowers and wine,” Kylo murmured. “We have our own softness. I’ve seen yours. I love to draw it out of you; I love to see you relaxed and sleepy and unconcerned.” He took in a breath, released it. “But the other way you express your love- with fierce, protective devotion- it leaves me in awe, Rey. Every time.”

“Like a wolf,” she muttered, remembering how Snoke’s words had cut.

“I like wolves. I love this wolf,” he said, fingertips trailing over the skin of her cheek and jaw. “My stubborn, stalwart wife, who takes care of me so well. He doesn’t understand any kind of love, Rey. He definitely doesn’t understand ours.”

This time when he attempted to tilt her face up she allowed him. There were shadows under his eyes, but he didn’t look despairing. He looked determined, and she recognized in his expression a protectiveness that was twin to hers. 

“Can he watch us, here?” 

It was a question she had been almost afraid to face head-on- and one where the answer seemed so obvious that it was barely worth asking- but nonetheless the words slipped from her mouth.

A flush crept over Kylo’s cheeks. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Wards.” 

Suspicious, she straightened. “What?”

“They have to be renewed once a week, and they can’t be placed in a spot with a lot of traffic. My grandfather… he discovered the means.”

“_How._”

“Blood,” he muttered. “Just a little. Not a lot. Maybe more would have kept your nightmares from slipping through.”

Rey tried to stand, and after a moment- a moment of him holding tight to her waist, eyes pleading- she succeeded, wrenching herself away angrily. “_That’s_ how you knew how to heal.”

“No,” he insisted. “My body heals itself; I don’t even have to think about it.”

“You’ve been injuring yourself while I was away.” She began to pace, anger turning to raw guilt. “Is that how you conjure up the rest? The money? The rings?”

“No. Only the wards require that sacrifice.”

“_Shit._” Rey stopped on the far side of the room, facing the wall. Telling him to stop would be useless. He wouldn’t stop until Snoke was gone, and he might not even stop then.

_I can’t ask him to,_ she realized. _He’s protecting himself as much as me. He’s maintaining a safe bolt-hole._

“We have to sleep, Rey,” he said. “I can’t have him creeping in while we’re defenseless.”

“No,” she whispered. “I suppose you can’t.” Rey turned, feeling sick. “I don’t like you hurting yourself.”

“It’s just a few drops,” he told her in a placating manner. “I prick a finger.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Once this is over I’ll stop.”

He sounded as if he believed his own words, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she wouldn’t one day find him pricking his finger in a nursery.

But then, if they had children Rey might well prick a few of her fingers herself. 

“Thank you,” she said after taking in a deep breath. “I… thank you.”

“I could try-”

“No.” She smiled to ease the sting of her sharp tone. “Keep the rest of your blood. I’ll take the nightmares.”

And then she crossed the room and kissed his fingertips, every single one.

\- - - 

It would be too suspicious, they decided, to be out and about that day or the next. Better for Snoke to think her injured and afraid, better to lay low. They would venture out later in the week; perhaps take a slow walk through a nearby park. Kylo could ‘forget’ his phone, leaving her to fetch it from the car… or maybe they would rent a cabin for a quick getaway, somewhere far from other people.

And then they received a frantic phone call from Poe close to midnight, and without any discussion they grabbed their coats and ran out the door. The local hospital was twenty minutes away. Kylo made it in ten, every light holding green until they passed, every speed trap empty, every camera- and Rey knew this instinctively- mysteriously malfunctioning. 

When they finally found Poe, he was pacing in a small waiting room near a surgical suite, one arm in a sling and a wild, distraught look in his eyes. His gaze snagged on Rey, and with a pained “Thank _God_” he rushed toward her, pulling her into a tight, one-armed hug. 

“What happened?”

He was shaking, his hand clenched around a fistful of Rey’s coat, and it took him a moment to answer. “Something ran out in front of our car. Something… something _huge._” Poe took in an unsteady breath, releasing Rey suddenly and backing away until he hit a chair. He more collapsed than sat on the surface. “And Finn swerved to avoid it, but we must have hit a patch of ice because the car skidded into the guardrail and-”

He shuddered, upper body drooping forward. “Those _eyes_,” he said in a hushed whisper, sick wonder in his voice, and any thought Rey might have had about this being an unfortunate accident disappeared.

Kylo grabbed her by the shoulders when she sucked in a breath, bending down and speaking quickly, quietly in her ear. “This isn’t your fault.” 

“It is.”

“It isn’t.” He sounded firm on the subject, but when he pulled back she saw it: a tinge of guilt, a hint of very real panic. “Stay here; I’ll see what I can do.” He kissed her hard and then turned, slipping out of the room before she could muster a demand for him to stop. 

_Calm,_ she told herself, touching her wedding band for whatever relief it might give. _You have to stay for Poe, you have to be calm for Poe._

She took the seat next to his, draping an arm over his shoulders. “It’s going to be all right,” she murmured, voice cracking, and when Poe sobbed she said the words again and again and again, until they lost all sense of meaning and blurred together in a soft haze. 

\- - -

Finn’s leg had been broken badly enough that he required surgery, and Rose had broken several ribs, one of which had nearly punctured her lung- or so the initial set of x-rays showed, at least. 

“Ms. Tico’s injuries are less worrisome than we originally thought,” the doctor who came to speak with Poe said, a perplexed furrow to his brow. “A few fractures, some bruising… she won’t be very comfortable for a while, but she’ll be fine. As for Mr. Hartford-”

As the doctor continued to speak, Rey felt Kylo’s arms slip around her waist from behind. “Couldn’t get to him,” he breathed in her ear, sounding apologetic. “Too many people.”

She squeezed his hand, leaning back against him with a desperate sense of relief at his sheer nearness. 

“And I kept my hands over Rose’s clothes,” he added as an afterthought, though she hadn’t been worried on that score.

Rey nodded slightly, turning her head toward him and murmuring, “Have we paid their bill, my tree?”

He pressed a kiss against her hair. “Every cent.”

\- - -

After Rose and Finn were settled in their shared room, Rey wandered wearily down the hall in search of a vending machine. Kylo had been listening intently to Poe’s rambling description of the mysterious beast when she left, one hand casually placed on the bed next to Finn’s injured leg. How much he would be able to help without contact was uncertain, but completely healing him was out of the question, in any case- that would raise too many questions, draw too much attention. A little bit of magic, though, would ease the pain and speed things along. 

The glowing promise of sugar and caffeine drew her into an out of the way nook. With a sigh and a raised brow at the posted price, she fumbled in her bag for quarters or a few dollar bills- and then paused, rendered uneasy by what she found. Every coin was tarnished, every bill was soft and worn. She had never paid too much attention to the physical state of her cash beyond _do I have any,_ but this looked suspiciously like what she might stuff in her pocket after a long day of work. 

Unwilling to be deterred by petty tricks, she bypassed the cash and pulled out a credit card instead. Her first attempt at sliding it through the card reader earned her an error readout, as did her second, and she didn’t need to try a third time to know that she needed to _leave_.

When she turned on her heel, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, it was too late. The hall behind her was so impenetrably dark that it might as well no longer exist, leaving Rey standing in a small, flickering pool of light. 

A _thunk_ sounded from one of the machines behind her, and when Rey glanced over her shoulder she saw an old-fashioned glass bottle waiting just beyond the opening. The vibrant green of the liquid inside brought to mind a book she had once read on the craze for Paris Green dye. “I don’t like the look of that gift,” she said with remarkable coolness, shifting so that her back was to a wall. There was no answer save the gentle rocking of the bottle to and fro, and an offering from the vending machine on the right: a scalpel, gleaming and sharp. 

“I don’t want that one, either.”

There was a sense of watching, of waiting to pounce- but instead of hands grabbing from the darkness, the threat came from within. Something hard caught at the top of her throat, unexpected and all too real. Gagging, Rey dropped to her knees as she tried to draw in breath, the contents of her bag spilling unheeded over the floor. Spots appeared in her vision as her body strained to rid itself of what shouldn’t be there, fingers clawing blindly at her own throat. With a final, desperate heave the object shot from her mouth, landing with a quiet, metallic sound on the floor. 

She did not, at first, understand what she saw there, in sharp contrast to the white linoleum. It was all she could do to breathe in and out, her body protesting even that much effort. 

Eventually, though, the sight made sense. Eventually the light in the hall beyond returned, and nearby someone said something about the lab results for room 405, and a voice over the intercom summoned a Dr. Hammond.

And Rey knelt on the floor, shoulders slumped, staring at a black, red-veined ring.


	15. oak

_So. What to do._

She didn’t touch the ring or the scattered coins or the tampons that had escaped her purse, one of which had rolled under a vending machine. Rey didn’t touch anything, beyond placing her hands lightly on her lap. 

_I promised not to run off alone. I would be a hypocrite if I ran off alone, if I took some deal to save him, but Snoke’s clearly watching and watching from inside me and his fingers were in my throat and on my skin and he could make me pick up that scalpel and drive it into Poe’s neck or Rose’s or Finn’s or Kylo’s or dump that poison into his coffee or tamper with my birth control and when my belly swelled he would use my hands to-_

It was panic, rather than logic, that forestalled thought. Panic that made her keen under her breath and slap a hand over her mouth, her wedding band hitting her upper lip hard. 

“Hey.”

A quiet, comforting voice, and it took her a moment to recognize the speaker: Dop, in his priest clothes with shadows under his eyes, the corners of his mouth drooping low. He knelt beside her on the floor, the movement fast enough that she very nearly scooted away instinctively. “Bad night, huh?” he said, casting a glance over the mess she had made. “Do you need help?”

When she didn’t answer- her hand couldn’t seem to move, her tongue couldn’t seem to form words- he began to pick up her belongings. “I haven’t been in to see them yet,” he said, sorting bits and pieces and placing them into different compartments of her bag with thoughtful care. “Can you tell me what happened?”

His hand hovered over the black and red ring, but before he could touch it hers shot out and grabbed him by the wrist. “No.”

He considered her for a long moment. “Not yours?”

“Well.” She managed an odd, rough laugh. “It was in my throat.”

There was a beat, and then he asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

Just the thought of taking anything from either machine made Rey shudder, and- releasing his wrist- she snatched up a used tissue that had been buried in her purse for far too long and dropped it on top of the ring. A quick, desperate crane of her neck revealed that the bottle and scalpel, at least, were gone. “No.” 

He finished sorting, sneaking her a glance or two, and then murmured, “Is that why you have welts on your neck?”

She dipped her head in a brief, jerked nod. “I don’t suppose you carry concealer with you.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“If Kylo sees he’ll do something risky.” 

_When._

“He loves you.”

Her mouth quirked into a crooked smile. “Oh, I know.”

Someone passed in the corridor, their footsteps slowing but not stopping. “You’re probably not the first distraught person they’ve seen in front of a soda machine,” Dop offered gently. “No success in exorcising your demon, then?”

“Just a lot of success in tormenting me and everyone I love.”

He brushed lint off his pants, his response reflective. “I’m beginning to think I should have asked for the particulars of your plan.”

“We were going to lure him somewhere private.” _Hopeless. Stupid._ “Couldn’t risk him attacking other people, or someone calling the cops. We thought… we thought that he would agree, because he wants him or me or both of us so much, but we just can’t pin him _down._” 

Greedy Snoke might be, but his patience had been honed over centuries, maybe even millenia. Unless demons had quotas to achieve, he could string them along for decades- and drunk on love and confidence, they had somehow thought to cut that short. 

“I’m not good at this kind of subterfuge, you know,” Rey added in a defensive mutter, though Dop’s expression was still kind and not at all derogatory. “I don’t sneak around and attack from the rear; I storm through the front door and punch them in the nose.”

“And that,” he said with odd humor, almost to himself, “is why you wanted the bullets.”

She snorted a laugh. He joined her reluctantly, and then they were both laughing in a vaguely hysterical manner on the hospital floor, Rey slumping into the corner where two walls met. Dop pushed her purse toward her, wiping the back of a hand over his eyes. 

“Are you crying?” 

“I feel like a shit priest.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and if it hadn’t been for the hint of despair in his expression she might have thought that he was joking. “I’ve never had to worry about more than disputes over the color of new carpet, or how to deal with bigoted parishioners, and now actual spiritual warfare is on my doorstep. Maybe if I had offered to help on day one…”

“I barely believed all this on day one,” she said with a shake of her head when he trailed off. “And you did help, then- you knocked Poe down a peg, and because of that Kylo and I had some time to get to know each other.” Rey plucked at the hem of her sweater, her ring gleaming in the light. “I don’t regret my marriage,” she said softly. “At all. Maybe I should, now that our friends have suffered because of it… but I love him. I wanted to save him. I still do.”

“Rey.” When she looked up, he was regarding her seriously. “The blame isn’t yours, either.”

_It is,_ she wanted to say. _It is, and there will be more to blame me for if this drags on for much longer._

“One day, I might believe that,” Rey said instead, picking up the ring and using the tissue as a buffer. Leaving it behind wasn’t an option; some innocent person might pick it up and end up ensnared in the whole messy business. She zipped it inside one of her purse pockets, and then gave Dop a tired smile that was a ghost of the real thing. “Poe will be glad to see you.”

He stood, offering her a hand up. “What are you going to do?”

Rey didn’t answer him immediately. It had been one thing to promise not to run off alone when she had been her own person, but Rey herself was the weapon, now. She was the blade against Kylo’s throat, the arsenic tipped into his wine. Wards meant nothing when the threat was hidden under Rey’s skin. 

“I’m going to walk with you to their room,” she said when her silence had gone on a beat too long. “Kylo’s probably wondering where I am.”

Dop nodded slowly, a measure of suspicion appearing on his face. “Rey-”

“Keep us in your prayers, okay?” She had never made such a request before, and she doubted she ever would again. “If you don’t mind.”

He followed her into the hall, his answer quiet. “You already are.”

\- - -

On the walk back to the room Rey pulled the elastic from her ponytail, allowing her hair to spill around her shoulders and hopefully conceal the worst of the welts. It seemed to work, in the dimly lit hospital room; Kylo’s expression was one of relief when he caught sight of them both. He stood, gesturing for Dop to take his seat, and made his way over to her. 

“I was able to help, a little,” he murmured against her hair, arms wrapping around her in an embrace more comforting and bittersweet than he likely guessed. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Tired.” 

“Do you want to go home?”

Rey thought of the apartment, of the house they had never gotten to see. She closed her eyes, breathing him in. _You are home._ “I-”

“It was your curse, wasn’t it?”

They both stiffened at the unexpected question, one of Kylo’s hands flexing at her back and his breath coming a little more quickly. He didn’t turn, so Rey peeked around him to meet Poe’s gaze. Her friend continued, expression not quite accusing, not quite angry. “That wasn’t a deer,” he said in an overworked, raspy voice. “Or a wolf, or even a bear. That was unearthly.”

She licked dry lips. “Probably.”

He was clearly too exhausted for fury, but she saw glimmerings of it in his eyes. She could almost feel their easy friendship fracturing and twisting into something new and misshapen, something cold and strained. His quiet, firm, “Get out,” merely reinforced the sensation. 

Kylo’s arms dropped from around her, and with an averted gaze he reached for his coat. Rey exchanged a glance with Dop, who mouthed a worried _I’ll be in touch._

Out in the corridor Rey kept her head tucked downward, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans as she tried to ignore how final the closing of the door had sounded, how much she wanted to sit down in the middle of the hall and forestall the inevitable. Only in the parking lot did Rey look up, doing her best to nonchalantly skirt around the pools of light at regular intervals along the rows as she considered what, exactly, to say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Rey shook her head, blinking away tears. “So am I.”

They were nearing the car, though Rey had no intention of actually getting inside of it. “I’m going to walk home,” she said as the first dusting of snow started to fall around them, trying to sound as if that were a perfectly normal decision to make. “But you should go, get some rest.”

Kylo stopped walking. His hand, which had been at the small of her back, fell away. “And leave you in the cold?” he asked, giving her a quizzical look. Her fingertips itched to grab at his coat, his skin, and Rey thought with startled panic that she didn’t know where that urge had come from. Perhaps from her own mind, or perhaps from a demon that wanted to make a permanent mark. 

“I just need to think,” she whispered hoarsely. “After… after all this.”

His gaze had sharpened into something like suspicion. “What happened?”

“Go home. Please.” 

When he reached out and tugged her under a streetlight, she didn’t put up a struggle. She simply allowed him to look his fill, his trembling fingertips skating over her skin as he breathed out a curse. “He’s inside of me, you see,” Rey said quietly, feeling as if admitting it aloud stripped her of every protection she had ever managed to acquire. She had been poor, she had been defenseless, but never like this. Her parents had used her, the foster system had flayed her to the bone, but no one had ever managed to infiltrate her very cells. “He gave me a ring. I spat it up like… like a fairy tale girl doomed to spit up toads.”

It was cold, bitterly cold, and all she wanted was to crawl into a warm bed with her husband and let him cuddle her to sleep.

_But I can’t have that._

Numb, Rey tugged off her ring, its slight weight unnaturally heavy in her palm. “Please don’t hate me.” She took several swift steps back before he could grab for her, the despair on his face almost more than she could bear.

“Rey-”

“No one has ever trusted me like you. No one has ever loved me like you, and I won’t- I won’t let you die, Kylo.” As each word dropped from her lips she felt more and more certain that this was right, this was correct, this was _true._ “I choose to be a shield this time, do you understand? You aren’t holding me in front of you, I’m-”

“_Rey, don’t-_”

“_My_ choice,” she snapped with a stamp of her foot, the ring hot against her skin. “No demon will touch you, Kylo Ren.” The air seemed to shift, seemed to turn inquisitive, as if the gaze of the entire universe had suddenly turned on her alone. “Or Ben Solo. Or any name you decide to use. You will live, and live happily, and one day-”

“_Rey-_”

“-one day, just- just don’t hate me.” For all her fervor, Rey found herself choking back a sob. “And if you could pay for Rose and Finn’s physical therapy, and maybe donate some money to Dop’s parish, that would be great. Even start a scholarship for impoverished wannabe historians.”

“Rey.” He looked like a man on the edge of a cliff, wide-eyed and pale. “Take my hand. _Please_.”

She knew exactly what would happen if she did. They might make it home safely, but eventually he would die, and she would be the cause.

“No.” She turned her closed fist downward, a kind of euphoria creeping through her. “No, my tree.” Rey smiled sweetly, fingers loosening. “I won’t.”

The ring fell through the air, hitting the pavement with a shiver. 

And even as her vision went black, Rey knew that somewhere, somehow, Snoke was cursing her name.

\- - -

_It was red, wherever she was. Red and smooth and seemingly boundless, but she knew that somewhere walls curved and met with no window or door. A prison, and one she shared. _

_“How.”_

_More a snarl than a question. Rey wandered aimlessly toward one side of the room, not even caring that her back was to Snoke. “Love. Stubbornness. Some mix of the two. It sounds like a cliché, but-”_

_She side-stepped his rushing figure, avoiding his fingertips by less than an inch. “-but clichés exist for a reason.” _

_Snoke whirled, his face having lost whatever humanity it once had. Skeletal and monstrous, he loomed before her. “I had him,” he hissed, so outraged that she knew he wasn’t putting on some kind of show. “I could taste him, and you- you stole him.”_

_“I did… something.” What, she still wasn’t sure. She was only sure that Snoke was her own personal demon now, or maybe she was his, but they would have an eternity to figure that out. She realized on some level that such a fate should terrify her, but it didn’t. Not yet, and perhaps it never would. Instead she thought of a bowl of rings, an apron, the memory of Kylo’s hands, kind and gentle, and she breathed steadily. “But you should be pleased. You did offer for me, after all.”_

_There was nothing natural in the curve of his mouth, or in his expression. “That ring wasn’t an offer of marriage, scavenger,” he spat. “I’m not in need of a bride.”_

_“Well, I already had a perfectly acceptable husband.” She flinched when his hand shot out, but dodged just in time. “You could have left us alone. You could have played your tricks on the other side of the world and we would have never known. All of this could have been avoided.” _

_He lunged for her throat, and she scrambled back. They circled each other warily, footsteps silent on the blood-red floor. Ring after ring after ring, and perhaps they would do this forever, neither of them willing to give way or offer any kind of submission. An endless, impossible loop. _

_Or. _

_She sprang, tackling him to the ground, her nose filled with the scent of decay and sulfur. She slammed her knee between his legs and he threw her off of him with a howl, sending her tumbling painfully across the floor. Rey staggered to her feet, pleased to see him curled up in a ball on the ground. “You don’t know who you messed with.” She took a step closer, and then another, staying well outside of his range of motion. “But maybe that’s for the best.”_

_When he looked up at her, all hatred and defiance, a hint of burgeoning fear in his eyes, Rey grinned bitterly. “You’re the one who has to put up with this mangy wolf, now.”_

_He moved quickly, but so did she. _

_The fight looped ever on._


	16. serviceberry

_“Apologize.”_

_Snoke was tall, but Rey was fast. He was used to controlling every little aspect of his life and the lives around him, but Rey had scrabbled for every freedom, every cent, every calorie. He was accustomed to short-cuts, but in the red chamber there was nothing of the kind. There was only the mental and physical, and more often than not that meant Rey’s fist in his solar plexus or her foot slamming into his knee. _

_“Apologize.”_

_He grimaced, scuttling back from her with a limp. Pain was real, here, but so was some kind of accelerated healing. In minutes- or less, or more; Rey had no concept of time- he would be standing strong and they would go again. “To a creature like you?”_

_Her side throbbed, but that, too, would soon die away. “To your equal.” She stepped to the right, and he to the left, and they circled, circled, circled. “I think that’s why you gave me that ring. Because we make such a lovely pair,” she said with a flash of her teeth, tone sarcastic. _

_“It was a shackle, not some weak, emotional gesture.”_

_She raised a brow, pushing aside the flicker of remembrance even talk of rings brought. It hurt too much, to think of Kylo. Better to throw herself into the fight, better to delight in Snoke’s sharp cry of pain when his head struck the ground after she tackled him. She did just that, and with a grim smile. “Apologize.”_

\- - -

_There were pauses. Not rests, exactly, but moments when they both retreated to opposite sides of the chamber by unspoken, hostile agreement. The ambient light even dimmed, casting their surroundings in shadow, only to ratchet back up to perfect brightness the instant one of them made a move toward the other. A handy warning system, Rey thought, even if it did work against her at times. _

_During those pauses, little hints of the world she had left behind slipped through, though Rey wasn’t entirely sure if they were her own imaginings or not: the feel of her body lolling in a cushioned seat, the smell of incense, the scratch of carpet against the back of one hand. A deep, strained voice that read as ‘Kylo’._

_Rey wondered if Snoke were experiencing similar slips, and decided that she didn’t care. Fuck him and his fucking plots, fuck him and his fucking desires, fuck him and whatever power had set him on the path of arboreal enchantments. _

_“Fuck you,” she said aloud for good measure, the words coming out with weary dispassion. The shadows remained, but she could hear the hiss of indrawn breath. “How many?”_

_“How many trees?” He laughed, the sound ancient and not even remotely human. “I have planted whole forests. So many felled by axes, or storms, or fire. So many undiscovered. You can hear them wail when wind rushes through their leaves.” She didn’t need light to know that he was smiling wickedly. “Where did you think your silly legends of dryads came from?”_

_And that- that made her laugh. A quick, brittle yip that wrenched itself from her throat before she even realized what was happening. “And yet you’re still here, with me,” she taunted. “All that work to be taken down by a nobody.”_

_When the light brightened and she saw an enraged Snoke rushing across the floor toward her, she stood and held her ground. _

_Under her feet, unnoticed, a streak of black bled through the red._

\- - -

_Reality skewed. She moved and he moved and maybe he moved with less grace and maybe she moved with more, her arm catching him around the waist during a forward burst and sending him toppling toward the black-veined floor. Smoky-sweet frankincense burned in her throat, making her sneeze and snarl and lash out with hands and nails. _

_A sound like the rustle of leaves tugged at her attention, but she had him pinned and what did noise matter what did anything matter but her hands around his neck and his gasping breaths and he was smaller he was shrinking he was weak and his eyes met hers and she was determined but he was unrepentant and-_

_And he shattered like ceramic under a hammer’s blow, an instant of confusion crossing his fragmented face before he dissolved into fine ash. Her knees dropped through where he had been, slamming onto the hard ground, her hands empty but for dust. She sneezed again, and he scattered. For a long moment she simply knelt there, unsure what had happened- and then the floor cracked. First one location, then another, until thin lines were racing through every vein. Her own patch of ground shivered beneath her, ash slipping through gradually growing fissures into the darkness below._

_The light disappeared, and she was snatched up into shadows and-_

-plunged. Water closed over her head, but just as quickly water turned to acid. Panicked, she thrashed, only just managing not to open her mouth in a scream. Her arms shot out of the water, grabbing onto fabric at nearly the same moment the pressure against her shoulders disappeared. Rey surfaced with a gasp, the fabric in her hands tearing as the wearer jerked back, and dragged herself coughing and sputtering over the lip of a tub before tumbling to the floor below. 

“I think that worked,” a familiar voice said in a dazed tone.

Hands took hold of her shoulders, steadying her as her vision gradually focused on blue and white. _Bath mat,_ she finally realized for the former. But the white-

“Rey?”

Black gloves, white coveralls, and her husband staring at her through clear plastic. Rey licked her lips, arms threaten to buckle under her own weight. “Is that a hazmat suit?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, and was rewarded with an expression of such relief that she momentarily forgot that she was soaked and may or may not have woken up mid-murder attempt. He helped her sit back against the wall, gloved hands stroking over her hair and cheeks in quick, frantic movements. 

“What-”

More a croak than a recognizable word, and she tried again. “What the fuck just happened?”

“We lost your security deposit.”

Not Kylo. Dop sat a few feet away, his shirt torn. He looked, just as Kylo did, as if he hadn’t slept in days, and the giddy tinge to his words seemed to confirm that. 

She squinted, eyes still adjusting to the light and skin still tingling. “Did you just try to kill me?”

“Dunked you in holy water,” Kylo said shortly, continuing to crowd her in a way that would have been more comforting if he hadn’t been dressed like someone headed into a plague zone. One hand cupped the back of her skull as his other pushed strands of damp hair away from her face, his eyes dark and intent. 

“Not one of my best ideas,” Dop said, voice sounding distant despite their close proximity. “But it did work.”

“It stung,” Rey complained, leaning into Kylo’s hand. She was so disoriented she could scarcely tell up from down, but he, at least, was solid.

“The water foamed.” Dop’s tone was definitely one of awe. “Never seen anything like it.”

Rey took in a breath, brow creasing as she tried to put together her own disorganized memories. “Snoke did kind of… dissolve. On me.”

Kylo muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, guilt flickering over his face, then added gruffly, “Burned him away, then.”

“I guess.” She raised a hand, patting the side of his face-plate. “You’re okay.”

The look Kylo leveled on her was unexpected. “_I’m_ fine,” he retorted in a strained voice, sitting back on his heels, hands dropping to his lap. “_You_ look like death.”

“Kylo,” Dop said tiredly.

“I’m not interested in priestly wisdom right now.”

“I’m just thinking that a change of location and some sleep might be helpful,” Dop said diplomatically, and though Kylo scowled he dipped his head in a nod before rising. 

Rey- feeling as if she were on some kind of time delay, mind moving slow- staggered to her feet to follow her husband into the bedroom, only to walk into a war zone. The furniture was in splinters, the blinds dangled half-broken in the window, and soot streaked across every surface. In the middle of the floor was a small, perfectly clean circle; the obvious epicenter of the calamity. 

“What did you _do?_”

Kylo had pushed aside the broken closet door and was rummaging through their clothing, most of which had fallen from the hangers to a heap on the floor. “What we had to do.” 

“And what you had to do involved explosives?”

“Honestly, that would have been less bizarre,” Dop muttered as he passed her. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

Kylo turned, holding what looked like one of his sweaters and a pair of her jeans. “I can fix the damage, but we need to stay somewhere else tonight.” He shifted his weight, suit rustling. “Things are a little too… blessed… right now.”

“Right.” She slumped back against the wall, still processing the sight in front of her. “Are-”

“Change.” A gentle interruption, but an interruption nonetheless, and one that came with clothing thrust into her hands. “You’ll catch cold.”

He didn’t turn away when she dragged off her soaked clothes, didn’t say a word as she haphazardly rubbed herself down with the only dry towel she could find. Only when she was once again dressed, her hair damp around her shoulders, did he step closer. His expression had shifted to one of frustrated longing. “I wish-” 

He broke off, the fingertips of one gloved hand brushing over her cheek. His mouth quirked into a sad, odd smile. “You’re too holy for me, sweetheart.”

“Passing phase,” she said hesitantly, and the smile disappeared.

“Perhaps.” When she swayed again he steadied her. “Take it slow.”

It was a small thing that occurred to her, then- pettily small, amidst her confusion and his obvious pain and belated remembrance of what had happened to their friends- and the question slipped out with uncharacteristic meekness. “Where are my rings?”

He turned his head toward the circle, and that was answer enough.

\- - -

The trip to the hotel- with Rey in Dop’s car, leaving a de-suited Kylo to drive alone- passed in a haze as the last of her adrenaline disappeared. At some point Rey vaguely remembered asking about Rose and Finn and Poe and receiving a reassuring answer in return, but the particulars were lost to her. 

“Pick a bed,” Kylo told her once they were inside their suite. He had his hands held up, clearly prepared to catch her if she fell, even at risk to himself. “You need to rest.”

“I’m contaminating this room.”

“Not irreparably.”

Rey was too tired to be stoic about the situation, too exhausted to completely hide her feelings. “I wish you could hug me,” she admitted, voice cracking. “Do you still want to?”

“I do.” He took in a deep breath, dropping his keys onto the small dining table. “I-”

Kylo paused, and then shook his head. “Dop was right. We both need to rest before we have this discussion.”

“I would do it again, for you.”

His expression turned almost stricken. “I’m aware.”

She couldn’t press on, not when he looked like that. Instead she turned, picking a room at random. Despite his apparent intention to keep distance between them Kylo trailed after her, watching as she took off her shoes and slipped out of the jeans. He was still standing in the doorway when she sat on the bed with a sigh, his stance hinting at something she also felt: that if they looked away, the other might disappear. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to leave.”

The knot in her stomach eased, slightly. “Good.”

And he left, flipping off the overhead light and shutting the door behind him. 

\- - -

She slept through breakfast and lunch, only waking when her bladder and stomach demanded she do so- and even then, the rest of her body protested. She ached fiercely, as if the ghost of every blow traded with Snoke had resurfaced, and it was with an audible grumble that she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, passing the robe and clothing that had appeared overnight with barely a glance. 

After taking care of one need, she took a long look in the mirror. _He was right,_ she decided. _I look like death._

It was the unnatural pallor, mostly. That, and the exhaustion and worry not even fourteen hours of sleep could wipe away. “If he had done what I did,” she admitted to herself, “I would have cried all over his shoulder and then yelled about it. Or vise versa.”

She had a feeling that Kylo would prefer to do much the same, though he might replace yelling with a low-pitched litany of threats against her hair as he cuddled her half to death, and, really, that sounded _lovely_. A pity he couldn’t touch her. 

Her stomach growled, but- following some futile impulse- Rey ignored it in favor of a long, hot shower, scrubbing hard as if doing so could wear away any vestige of holiness left on her skin. Then, and only then, with her hair damp and her teeth clean and her body smelling faintly of lemon verbena, did she dress and emerge from her room. 

“Did you sleep?”

Kylo looked up at her from his spot on the couch, shadows under his eyes. “A little.” He set aside his book, slipping a hand into his pocket. When he leaned forward to set something on the coffee table she wasn’t surprised by the offering- a silver ring, set with black pearls- but she was surprised by just how hard the gesture struck her and the wave of uncertainty it inspired. 

She stepped just close enough to pick up the ring, snatching it up with a rapidity that was likely telling. “It’s lovely. Thank you.” 

“Would you prefer something else?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Only-”

Rey forced herself to finish the phrase. “Is it a goodbye gift?”

His jaw firmed at that, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

The snapped reply, absurdly, gave her a boost. “Well, I did break my promise, after all. I said I wouldn’t do anything rash-”

“_Rash?_” he growled.

“-but I still think I did the right thing. And I’m not sorry,” she continued in a rush. “Not for saving you. I am sorry for hurting you. Abandoning you.”

He drew in a sharp breath, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “You didn’t abandon me.”

Rey slipped the ring on, just to the first knuckle. “Didn’t I?”

“You _terrified_ me,” he bit out. “I haven’t felt terror like that- _guilt_ like that- since my parents died. I barely caught you before your head struck the pavement, and when I gathered you up you were hardly breathing. I kept having to check for a pulse, and it was so faint-”

He took in another breath, standing in one swift movement. “It was like you were barely alive,” he said in a shaking, broken voice. “I had to make a split-second decision whether or not to admit you, but I knew that the cause was Snoke and not something- something medical, so I put you in the car and brought you home because I couldn’t take the risk of being separated from you. Certainly couldn’t have done any of what we did anywhere else.” He began to pace. “I tried everything. _We_ tried everything, once Dop left the hospital and found all twenty-one of my messages. He knew where that ring was, so we pulled it out of your bag and did our best to destroy it.” 

“What worked?” she asked quietly, sliding the new ring on the rest of the way. 

“Holy water.” Kylo bit his lower lip briefly. “And before I could stop him, Dop dumped your rings in there with it. If I hadn’t been wearing the suit he insisted I wear-”

He paused, running a hand through his hair. “When the smoke cleared you were still asleep, but your heart-rate had slowed even further. Your lips were turning blue.”

No wonder her prison had broken to pieces. “Well,” she said uncertainly, trying to find the right words, “your gambit worked.”

Kylo stared at her. “Gambit.”

“Well...”

“If I could touch you without bursting into flame,” he began, enunciating each word slowly and clearly, “I wouldn’t let you out of bed for a week.”

“We-”

“Not until I was satisfied that every inch of you was unharmed and that you wouldn’t sink into another damned coma.”

“I-”

“Not until I had fucked you so thoroughly that nine out of every ten religious bodies considered us married by default.”

She blinked, confused. “What?”

“The moment you collapsed both of our wedding rings snapped out of existence. I’m pretty sure we’re divorced.”

That hadn’t been her intention, but in retrospect she could sort of follow the logic. “So… we get married again.” When he didn’t immediately answer Rey felt her stomach roil. “Or not,” she mumbled.

“Of _course_ we’re getting married again.” She looked up to see him on the verge of tears, his hands clenched into fists. “The minute you’re safe to touch I’m carrying you off to the registrar’s office. We’re buying a home and I’m going to make sure you stay fed and I’m going to build you a damned ring _vault_ in case you ever have another self-sacrificing fainting fit.” His voice had gradually shifted from something panicked into a determined, low growl that had her breath catching in her throat, and then a pleading note slipped in. “Just please- _please_\- never do that to me again.”

“Pretty sure you only had one demon stalker.” 

“I don’t care if I turn out to have an _army_.”

And it was that, in an odd way, that reminded her of the obvious- they were free. Or as free as they could be, with holiness lingering in her pores. “I knocked his balls up into his lungs.” When Kylo gave her a startled look Rey grinned. “Judging by the way he screamed that was a first.”

His tense posture eased, a reluctant smile teasing at his mouth. “You’re a dangerous woman.”

“You love me for it.”

“I really do.” He retreated to the other side of the room, leaning against the kitchenette counter. “My very, very dangerous Rey, who could currently unravel me on a cellular level.”

They stared at each other, her moment of levity dissipating as each second wore on. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do,” she admitted softly, a part of her still feeling adrift. She wanted to relate her own time away, if only to unburden herself as he had, but she couldn’t bring herself to break this tenuous peace. “I want to touch you. I want to go home. I want to talk to Rose and Poe and Finn. I want some kind of… of normalcy.”

“I know.” When her stomach growled his gaze turned thoughtful. “If you feel well enough, we could go to the diner.”

Just the thought of Maz made her feel better. Being around crowds, not so much, but Rey would endure the noise if it meant being fussed over by someone who could actually _touch_ her. “Is it safe for us to be in the same car?”

“Safer than last night, I think.” His eyes narrowed, and he was suddenly moving away, disappearing into his own room. When he came back it was with a folded blanket, which he snapped open with an impatient flick of his wrists. “Come here.”

She came forward, holding still as he draped the blanket around and over her until only her face remained uncovered- and then, when his arms closed around her from behind, she released a shuddering breath. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but it was _something._

He made a choked noise in the back of his throat. “If it had been me,” he murmured, voice uneven, “I would have done the same thing.” 

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Hopefully you won’t have to prove that.”

“I would have thrown myself into that tub if I had thought it would do any good.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Rey leaned into him, taking comfort in the small amount of body heat she could feel through the blanket. “I’m really glad you didn’t.”

His grip tightened. “Let me hold you for just a minute more. Then I’ll get you fed, I swear.”

“Okay.” She would stand there for an hour, if he wished. “Okay.”

And faintly, so faintly that she suspected it to be a trick of the mind, she caught a hint of pine.


	17. loblolly

They made it to the diner, but grew distracted in the parking lot. It was the gloves, Rey decided as Kylo swept his thumb over her bottom lip. Leather was a distinct improvement over latex. Bare skin would have been better, but she would take leather, and she was perfectly prepared to stay in the cooling interior of the car for as long as he was content to keep touching her. She willed her stomach not to growl, knowing that the moment it did he would insist on escorting her inside.

“I’m sorry.” 

She nuzzled into his hand. “Stop apologizing.”

“I let panic make me harsh.” He smoothed his other hand over her hair, expression soft when she looked up at him. “You deserved better.”

“Neither of us have been at our best. I mean, after-”

She blinked, thinking. “How long, exactly, was I out?”

“Nearly three days.” His smile was almost wry. “Very Christlike of you.”

It had certainly felt like longer to her. “Ah.”

“Dop held up better than me.” Pink swept over his cheeks. “I might have, uh, put a fist through the living room wall on day two. He patted me cautiously on the back and made me eat a granola bar.”

Rey snorted, turning her head to hide her own smile against his palm. “He’s very sweet.”

“He texted me this morning. Rose and Finn went home yesterday.” 

She couldn’t repress her flinch. “They’re okay?”

“Doing better than expected.” Kylo’s jaw firmed even as a hint of guilt flickered over his face. “Poe, too.”

Whose harsh words still stung, but Rey did her best to push that aside. “You healed him.”

“A little. I regretted it after he hurt you. Regretted it more when-”

Kylo hesitated, then said quietly, “After you collapsed, I wanted to hurt him in return. For pushing you at your most fragile.”

“He hurt you, too.”

“It’s not the same. Our friendship was still tenuous.”

Rey pulled away, looking toward the lazily falling flurries outside the windows. “I was already determined,” she said after nearly a minute of silent thought. “But that night-”

She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat. It didn’t work. “I have had so few certainties.” Rey spoke the words carefully, knowing she was on the verge of tears. “Before you, all I could rely on was my own autonomy and their friendship. In less than an hour I lost both. I knew that you were next, one way or another.”

He didn’t like that answer, but he clearly understood it. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to forgive him.” Rey raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “He was in pain, and he was afraid, and I’m not sure I would have acted any better if you had been the one in a hospital bed.” 

She might have done worse. She had strangled a demon for Kylo’s sake, after all. 

He looked away, hands clenching in his lap. “Nor I.”

“I’m just… tired.” Rey heard her voice crack on the last word. “I can’t bridge that gap. Not yet. Not until our lives are in some kind of order. Not until I can touch you.” She gave him a tiny, weary smile. “I suspect I’ll feel a lot better, then.”

His expression, when he met her gaze, softened with longing. “I feel much the same.”

She didn’t need to force a brighter smile, not when he looked at her like that. “And right now, all I want is some food.”

He reached out, his gloved fingertips brushing her cheek. “Then that’s what you shall have.” 

And then he was out of the car, circling to her side to hand her out. She granted him the gesture. 

They had arrived during the mid-afternoon lull, and the moment they walked in Maz arrowed in on them as if she had been expecting their arrival for the past hour. “You look _exhausted_.” She reached up, cupping Rey’s face in her warm hands. “Have you been resting at all? Kylo, you may have to tie her to the bed for her own health.”

The tears that had threatened in the car very nearly spilled right there in the entryway. “I’m fine,” Rey tried to assure her, barely managing to keep her voice even.

Maz humphed in obvious disbelief. “You’re weak as a kitten. Sit down- and _you,_” she said to Kylo, gaze sharp, “don’t look that much better.”

“Did we come here to be insulted?” Kylo asked blandly, but allowed himself to be shepherded toward a relatively isolated booth near the kitchen door.

“Don’t tempt me, boy.” Maz waited until they were both seated, hands on her hips. “Opposite sides of the booth, hmm?”

Rey wasn’t entirely sure how to take that comment. “Kind of traditional.” 

“On any normal day, perhaps, but not when you both look half-starved and emotionally bedraggled. You’ve been discrete, but I know a pair of cuddlers when I see one.” 

Rey and Kylo exchanged a look, his mouth quirking into a reluctant smile. “It’s a long story,” he said, and Maz tsked. 

“We’ll get some food into you, then, and maybe you’ll decide to tell it.” She bustled toward the kitchen door with a parting “And don’t you _dare_ move.”

“She’s snappish when worried about someone,” Kylo commented, sounding a little nostalgic. “Reminds me of my mother.”

“That aspect of her personality made me nervous when I first started.” Rey slipped her arms out of her coat with a wince, leaving it draped around her shoulders. “It took me a while to understand that I wasn’t in trouble. Now it’s comforting.”

Her wince had caught Kylo’s attention. He narrowed his eyes, biting his lower lip in a quick, unconscious manner. “You hurt, don’t you? Physically.”

“Well.” She glanced around cautiously, but no one was near enough to overhear, provided they kept quiet. “I told you we fought.”

“You implied.” He folded his arms on the tabletop, leaning in and lowering his voice further. “I didn’t see any bruises when you changed, last night. You don’t have any broken bones.”

“It’s more like memory.” She frowned, nose wrinkling. “Or overuse. Like I ran a marathon, and now my body is punishing me for it.”

“Would a bath help?”

Rey couldn’t repress her instinctual shudder. “No.”

Dop’s impromptu baptism (was she baptized, now?) had worked exactly as intended, but the experience of being held underwater, lungs straining, had soured a formerly pleasant past-time. 

“I could try some healing. Easier when I have a fixed target, but…”

His voice trailed off, gaze a little distant, and she let him ponder. It was enough, at that moment, to sit in companionable silence as the first carols of the season played over the speakers- and it was that same audible cue which tipped her off to the obvious. 

_We missed Thanksgiving._

Rey wasn’t entirely surprised- the holiday hadn’t really been on their radar to begin with, given the circumstances- but she did feel a slight pang of regret. 

Maz returned, water glasses in hand. “Cold?” she asked Kylo, who still wore his gloves and coat, and- jerked from his thoughts- he gave her a startled look. 

“Ah. A little.”

“Hmm.” She looked at him, at Rey, at the space between them. “Man like you, I’d be surprised if you didn’t emit heat like a furnace.”

He did, usually, but Rey didn’t offer up that information. 

“We’re both under the weather,” Kylo told Maz gravely, removing his coat. 

“Drink some water, then. I have tomato bisque on the stove, and the makings for grilled cheese-”

At that, she gave Rey a brief smile. “I know you, my girl. American cheese for you, sharp cheddar for your husband.” She patted Kylo’s cheek, expression shifting closer to exasperated fondness than suspicion. “I have a sense for you, too, my lad.”

She left again, leaving Rey laughing quietly and Kylo fighting a grin, a blush brightening his cheeks. He released her hands to pick up his glass as directed, taking a long sip. When he set it down condensation lingered on his gloves, droplets gleaming against the leather. He rubbed his fingertips together, finally allowing himself a chuckle. “I haven’t been called a lad since… since my father was able to carry me on his shoulders.”

“So three, or thereabouts,” Rey said dryly. 

“Closer to six.”

She still felt at risk of weeping in public, but it was sweet, this taste of their normal life. Rey allowed herself to bask in it as she sipped her own water, which- because Maz did know her- held a wedge of lime instead of lemon. They spoke of small, light things in the minutes that followed, keeping away from anything heavier by unspoken agreement. When Maz appeared with their food she looked faintly satisfied to see Rey smiling over Kylo’s insistence on what he termed a “real honeymoon.” 

“We had Chandrila.”

“Yes, and our time there was a veritable oasis of peace,” he replied dryly, tugging off his gloves. “Thank you, Maz.”

“I have to come back to work at some point, and the semester starts-”

“You have a spring break,” he interjected. “We could go then.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, my dear,” Maz advised her. “Now scoot over; I want to make sure the two of you actually eat.”

Rey slid down, pulling her food with her. Maz settled in beside her, looking as if she were mulling over _something-_ and when she finally spoke some minutes later, it had nothing to do with Rey’s wan complexion or the shadows under Kylo’s eyes.

“I was born in Chandrila, you know.”

Simple, unobjectionable words, but they held a weight that made Kylo slowly lower his spoon.

“Still visit, too. Because when the matriarch of the family decrees it’s time for another family reunion- well, one doesn’t just say _no._”

Creeping dread caught at Rey’s throat, her stomach turning queasy. She let her last bite of grilled cheese drop and tentatively said, “Your maiden name was Williams.”

“But my mother’s was Skywalker.”

Kylo grew so still, so pale, that Rey half-expected him to stop breathing. If he had still been wearing his gloves she would have tried to take his hand, but as it was all she could do was press the side of her foot against his. His gaze, fixed on Maz, didn’t even shift toward her.

“It took me a while to recognize you, though I doubt anyone could fault me for that.” Maz did reach across the table, folding one small hand over Kylo’s much larger one. “Who would expect a man last seen over a century ago to reappear?”

“I think,” Kylo said carefully, but he was interrupted.

“Ben Solo.” Maz’s intensity softened when he flinched. “Walking the world again.”

Kylo tried again, voice hoarse. “I think you may be mistaken.”

“I’m not.” There could be no arguing with her rock-solid certainty. “My vision may be poor, but my lenses are up to date, thank you. I can see you clearly, and I know who you are.”

Rey did her best to breathe calmly, to remember that Maz had always been a port in the storm and not someone to fear. “What are you going to do?”

“About Kylo? Nothing.” She shrugged when the man in question took in a sharp breath. “What would I do? Drag him to the next reunion? Most of my relatives would consider it a distasteful joke, at best. At worst, someone would let it slip and you would both end up with more attention that you want.” She squeezed Kylo’s hand. “You’re happy as you are, and I have no intention of coming between you and your clear yearning to lead a reasonably normal life. I-”

She hesitated, and for the first time Rey saw actual uncertainty cross Maz’s face. “I don’t expect some grand gesture. I just thought you needed to know that a very distant cousin wishes you well.”

The set of Kylo’s shoulders eased, somewhat. “Cousin?”

“I don’t have the patience to figure out our exact status.”

“Fair.”

“I just know that I’m _much_ younger than you.”

Kylo stared at her for a long moment, one corner of his mouth twitching- and then he gave a short laugh, relaxing into his seat. 

Maz considered him with a shrewd expression. “And things are… settled?” she asked delicately. “Less uncanny, perhaps?”

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but Maz cut her off. “I couldn’t help but notice that everything went to hell around the time he showed up. _Not_ that I’m blaming either of you; I just thought it might be an odd side-effect.”

Kylo and Rey exchanged a look. “More or less,” was his careful answer.

“And would that more or less have anything to do with the sudden distance between you two?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Her gaze shifted to somewhere in the middle distance, and then- with a heavy sigh, as if they were both being foolish- she snagged Rey’s hand and brought it together with Kylo’s before either of them could do more than suck in a startled breath.

Nothing happened. No smoke, no fire, nothing more than the familiar press of skin against skin and a tingle along Rey’s nerves that read as _yes, yes, finally._

And Rey, unable to repress her tears for a second longer, let loose a sob. Maz must have slid out of the booth, because suddenly Kylo was _there,_ pulling Rey nearly onto his lap and scattering kisses over her face and hair. 

They were, Rey realized in a distant kind of way, creating a scene. She didn’t care.

“I have the feeling that I just did something reckless,” Maz commented after a moment. “Did I?” 

She sounded as if she didn’t expect an answer, and- on that day, at least- she didn’t get one.

\- - -

Maz eventually kicked them out, her stern “Weeping customers are bad for business; you’ll make everyone lose their appetites,” belied by the sheen of tears in her own eyes and the to-go containers of pie that she thrust into their hands. They would talk again, and soon, and in a more private location. She didn’t need to say that fact aloud, and neither did they- it was simply understood. 

She was family, after all. She always had been, and now she was in more ways than one.

“I don’t know what to think of this,” Rey admitted once they were back in the suite, cupping his face. “Maybe you are human.”

“Or maybe Dop’s holy water has a very short life-span.” He was unbuttoning her coat and pulling her back toward his bedroom at the same time, and she went willingly. “You hurt.”

“I could use some husbandly attention.”

“You’re going to get a lot of it,” he promised, and set himself to undressing her. Coat, sweater, camisole and bra were dropped to the floor, and then she was falling back onto the bed and he was attending to her shoes and jeans. “My sweet wife,” she heard him murmur, and laughed. 

“Not your wife.”

“You were and will be again.” He hovered over her, completely dressed save his lack of gloves. “Hold still.”

His warm hands settled on her skin, stroking over every curve and limb in a way that was all the more arousing for how her aches disappeared in the wake of each caress. “That isn’t still,” he noted a low, amused voice when his fingertips brushed up her inner thighs and she squirmed. 

“The ache _there_ won’t be chased away with your magic.”

By the time he settled into the cradle of her hips, arousal was the only ache she felt- and as he murmured a ragged litany of praises in her ear (_sweetheart my wife mine my Rey_) she dug her heels into the sheets and her fingers into his back and _clung_ until there was only release and pleasure and bone-deep contentment, and he was warm and heavy on top of her and they were a tangle of limbs.

“I might actually sleep tonight.” He sounded dazed, the words further muffled by being spoken into the crook of her neck. “Last night… I kept waking up and peeking into your room to make sure you were still there. I nearly slept on your floor.”

“My poor tree.” She was half-asleep already, the familiar heat of his body and an orgasm lulling her to a boneless drowse, but she fought the urge to close her eyes. It took heroic effort and a firm reminder of _you are an adult,_ but she eventually managed to pull herself from beneath him and shuffle off to the bathroom. 

Behind her, he made a dissatisfied sound. “Come back to bed.”

“I don’t want a UTI.”

“I could heal that.”

True enough, but she was already up. 

When she returned a minute later, he welcomed her back with a lingering kiss and didn’t utter a word when she tucked her cold feet between his calves. 

“Kylo.”

“Hmm?” He brushed a kiss over her forehead, one arm cinched tight behind her back.

“Be here. When I wake up.”

He made a soothing noise, shifting so that he rested on his back and her head was over his heart. “I will.”

She should have brushed her teeth, Rey realized belatedly. Flossed, washed her face… but she hadn’t wanted to be away for any longer than necessary, and now she was warm and cozy. She allowed her eyelids to slip closed, allowed her breathing to slow with the same guilty pleasure she felt every time she fell asleep on her couch. 

And then, a whisper. “Rey.”

“Hmm?”

One hand carded through her hair. “Nothing,” he whispered, a finger tracing the curve of her ear. “I just like saying your name.”

Her mouth curled into a smile. “Kylo.” A beat. “Marry me tomorrow.”


	18. magnolia

_There was a hand around her throat. Rey thrashed, unable to touch the sides of the tub or even the arm of whoever held her down. There was nothing to grab, nothing to use as leverage, nothing to breathe save the water surrounding her. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing-_

“Shhh.”

_Legs bound and-_

“Sweetheart.”

Rey jerked awake, blinking up into the gray light of the room as she frantically gulped for air. Not underwater, not short of breath; bound only by the sheets twisted around her legs. Kylo leaned over her, one hand cupping her cheek. “There you are.” His tone was low and soothing, but worry was evident in his eyes. “Nightmare?”

“Uh-huh.” She kicked her legs free, shivering. “Just- just a regular old nightmare.”

Kylo grabbed the askew blankets and sheets, straightening them and tucking her back in. “Natural part of life,” he said as he settled onto his side, wrapping an arm around her.

“Yep.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Rey licked her dry lips, forcing herself to take in a few deep breaths before answering. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to.” His fingertips were drifting up and down her back, more soothing than ticklish. “I could just hold you until you fall back asleep… or we could get up, order breakfast.”

“I don’t want you to get mad.” When his hand stilled her sleepy, still unsettled mind realized what, exactly, her words had implied. “Not at _me,_” Rey stressed. “It was just… water.”

“Water.” A beat. “_Oh._” Kylo grumbled a little under his breath, snugging her close. “I’m not mad at Dop.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you had actually drowned I would have tossed him out a window, but his desperate measure worked. Not that I enjoyed watching the process,” he added in a mutter against her hair. “We’ll both be having nightmares about that particular moment.”

“Normal, non-demon-sent nightmares.” She found herself shivering again, despite his body heat. “Because Snoke’s gone.”

Rey knew he was. She had killed him herself, had seen him break into nothing more than ash, but certainty felt hard to come by in the wee hours of the morning. 

“He is gone.” Kylo’s voice softened to a murmur. “It’s just us, now.”

And that was true, and lovely, but-

“He said there were other victims.”

“I’m not surprised.” Kylo sounded tired, even a little guilty. “We can’t do anything about that, Rey. Even if I knew how to break that kind of curse, it would take more than one lifetime to test every single tree on the planet.”

“In fairy tales the sorcerer’s death always ends the spell.” Each word came out quiet and resigned. “But this isn’t a fairy tale.”

They would know if such a thing had happened, surely. They would have caught wind of the inevitable media circus if people by the dozens- hundreds?- had come striding out of the woods the world over with the same fantastic story on their lips. 

“It’s a very small one.” He nuzzled his nose against her hair, and at her back she felt the sudden outline of a ring between his fingers and her skin. “Two lovers save each other from great peril.”

“And live happily ever after? I’m not sure that’s possible outside of stories.” 

“As happily as two fallible people can live.” Kylo pulled his arm from behind her back, a gold ring with a pink stone on the tip of one finger. “For as long as we have.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as he slipped the ring onto her right hand, caught by something in his voice. “You still think you’re a demon.”

“I don’t think it’s proven one way or another.”

“Hmm.” Rey surged up, pinning him to the bed. “Well… this face is very human.”

He looked to be repressing a smile. “Rey.”

“A very handsome, beloved face. I particularly like this mole, right here-”

She kissed the mark, and then a second time for good measure. “And this is a _very_ mortal nose.”

“Big, you mean?” he asked dryly, and she shook her head. 

“Distinguished. And your mouth-”

“What about it?”

“Eminently kissable; occasionally distractingly pouty.”

“I suppose my ears are also proof of mortality.”

“A demon’s earlobes would never show a hint of a blush. A demon, come to think of it, would never blush at all.” 

And he was blushing, now, just a little- but his eyes also held the kind of heat that inevitably led to tangles in her hair and rumpled sheets. “Rey.”

“Yes?”

“Are you done?”

“I don’t know.” She circled the tip of one finger around a nipple, smiling when he sucked in a breath. “Are you convinced?”

“Not entirely.” His hands curved over her hips. “But putting all these presumably mortal parts to use would be more convincing than you listing them off one by one.”

Rey didn’t bother hiding her teasing smile. “Would it? You wouldn’t prefer to go back to sleep? Very human activity, sleeping.”

“My mortal cock is interested in another human activity.”

“I never said anything about your cock being human; that is one hundred percent demon-tree dick.”

For a brief moment he actually grinned, wide and genuine, and then he had her back against the sheets and all philosophical questions were put aside for a later day.

\- - -

“I could buy you a dress.” Kylo lingered on the threshold of the apartment, looking reluctant to step further in. “Conjure one.”

“You _could,_” Rey stressed, looking around the living space with fresh eyes. She hadn’t spared her surroundings more than a brief look, when they had last left, and what had been a blur of memory now resolved as a jumbled mess. “There really is a hole in the wall.”

He slunk inside, shutting the door behind him with his head bowed. “You were so cold,” he muttered, and she instantly moved toward him. 

“I’m not mad,” she assured him, rising to her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. “We can fix it.”

“I can fix it.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I just…”

“Needed an outlet. I know.”

“My mother used to send me out to cut firewood when I was in a mood.”

“Hmm.” She felt the tense muscles of his neck began to relax, a little, under her stroking fingers. “I’ve never had a fireplace.”

He laughed softly. “Luckily for you, I enjoy the chore even when I’m not frustrated.”

“And look very virile doing it, I’m sure.”

Kylo looked as if he wanted to pull her close, to bury his face in her hair- but his hands settled on her waist, keeping her at a slight distance. “I’m not violent, Rey.” His expression was utterly sincere, even a little scared, and she knew much of that fear sprung from old, familial wounds. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking things, or...”

“I know.” How could she not? How could she sleep in his arms, eat his cooking, wear his rings, and not know that beneath solid muscle his heart was so incredibly soft? “You’re understanding, and gentle.” She ran her fingers through his hair, mouth curving into a smile. “And tall, which is appropriate for my beloved tree.”

The set of his shoulders relaxed, and when he guided her back toward the kitchen counter she went willingly. One hop and a bit of effortless strength on his part and she was perched on the countertop, Kylo standing between her knees. “One punch,” she continued, caressing the side of his face, “one punch to drywall during three days of desperation- that strikes me as pretty damn restrained.”

His eyes closed for a moment, head tilting to lean into her hand- and when he once again looked at her, it was with relief. “You are very understanding.”

“Fought a demon to the bitter end for you, remember? And-”

Rey briefly faltered, and then lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “When I was a kid, sometimes I would become so… so _frustrated_… that I would sneak away and wear myself out hitting some poor tree with a fallen branch.” She felt her cheeks heat in a blush. “One foster parent caught me in the act, started screaming that it was the last straw and she wouldn’t allow such a dangerous hooligan to live under her roof. I was back in a group home two days later.”

And had never attempted that particular trick again, not even when panic or anger clawed at her throat and she fairly vibrated under her skin. Instead she had learned to stay still. To be quiet. 

“So yes. I understand.”

Kylo slipped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. “I could teach you how to chop wood, if you like.”

She had the sense that he was biting back sharper words aimed at her former foster mother, and Rey appreciated his restraint. The woman herself didn’t deserve it- she had been cold from day one, and had so begrudgingly doled out second helpings at meals that hunger had almost been preferable- but Rey had no desire to dig deeper into that particular part of her history. Not on that day, at least. 

“I would like that, thank you.”

When he lifted his head she pulled him into a kiss, one that was gentle and comforting enough to ease bitter memory. One that felt like home, plain and simple, and a home she didn’t need to worry about being sent away from. She would shelter under his branches and guard him from all comers, and together they would face the world. 

The hole in the wall was gone, when she next looked; the living room and kitchen both set aright, as if nothing had ever happened. “Multi-tasking?” she asked him teasingly. 

“Inspired.”

“Where’s the apron?”

“In a drawer, waiting to be used.” He kissed her again, a quick brush of lips. “Safe and sound.”

“Is the bedroom in one piece?”

“Yes.” He helped her down and followed her down the hall, one hand on her back. “If I dissolve into dust from lingering holiness, remember that I love you.”

“I still think you’re human.” She sincerely hoped so, at least, and for more reasons than the possible threat to his life. “Except for, of course, that one part.”

“I’m going to be ninety and on my potentially human deathbed and you’ll still be making demon cock jokes.” He sounded darkly amused, the hand on her back sliding down to her ass. “You’ll scandalize the children.” 

The bedroom looked perfect, as if a supernatural storm had never demolished it in the first place. “I reserve the right to say whatever the hell I want at our respective deathbeds,” she told him cheekily. “I-”

And then stopped, because on her bedside table was the ceramic bowl- and in the bowl were her rings, or at the very least what looked like her rings. “_Oh._” 

“I did my best to remember them. I probably made a few mistakes.”

“Thank you.” She turned to him, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. “It’s not… it’s not some love of expensive things, you know.”

He smiled, slow and sure. “I’ve figured that out, sweetheart.”

“Have you?”

“I would give you a mansion on a hill and clothe you in silk and diamonds, if you wanted. I would give you easy days free of every single care, vacations in the most luxurious spots- but you don’t want any of that.” Kylo cupped her face in his hands, expression tender. “You want to learn, and to work. You want to be loved and love in return. You let me give you rings because you know that I…”

He shook his head. “‘Enjoy’ isn’t quite right. It’s… necessary. An odd quirk, I suppose.”

“A quirk that I love.” She didn’t care that tears were slipping down her cheeks, and wasn’t surprised when he pulled a handkerchief out of what was probably thin air to wipe them away. “Rings are very appropriate for a tree.”

His lips twitched, sudden wry amusement crossing his face. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It took me a while to make the connection.” 

“That wasn’t the point. On the surface, at least.” 

“I know. And I love them for more than surface reasons.”

He didn’t kiss her, then, but drew her close: her head under his chin, his arms tight around her back. “Find your dress?” he asked in a rasp, fingers clenching at the wool of her sweater. “I want to marry you all over again.”

In their closet- assuming his magic had restored everything to how it was- there was a green cocktail dress. Rose had insisted she buy it during her surprise wardrobe replacement, and Rey- more than a little in love with the color, with the feel of the fabric, with the way it looked on her body- had given in with surprisingly little argument. It had reminded her of the forest Kylo had sprung from, and the life that zinged through her veins whenever he touched her, and the green flannel shirt he had worn the first day she met him. She had never worn that dress- where would she?- but had left it to hang undisturbed in their closet. 

She would wear it today. 

“I will,” Rey murmured. “Ten minutes.”

After a tight hug he stepped back reluctantly, hands curled loosely over her shoulders. “Ten minutes.” There was a beat, and then he asked, “You don’t want a big ceremony?” He sounded hesitant when he spoke, even a little wistful, as if he desired an immediate fix but wouldn’t mind seeing her in a white dress and veil with her arms full of flowers. “I don’t like the idea of a delay, but…”

“I don’t,” she replied honestly. “I’ve never dreamed of a fancy wedding. I barely thought to dream of someone like you.” Rey hooked the fingers of one hand in the collar of his shirt. “I never thought to dream of anything or anyone so grand.”

Kylo huffed a shy, almost disbelieving laugh. “Sweetheart.”

“One day you’ll believe me.”

He gave her an arrested look, one that melted into something gentle and knowing. “Get dressed. Please.”

Kylo backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, and she moved immediately to the closet. Sweaters and blouses and jeans lay nearest the door, all hung with far more care than she would have ever offered them- and at the back, the dress in its plastic covering. Rey dressed carefully, layering lingerie she couldn’t even recall buying underneath. 

_I might not have,_ she thought with a little laugh. Kylo would never force her to wear anything, but slipping a secret wish into her wardrobe- yes, he might do that. Perhaps even unconsciously. 

Sifting through the newly-replenished bowl, she picked out an emerald ring and slipped it onto her right hand, leaving the pink stone she had been wearing with its brethren. The black pearls remained on her left. It was then, and only then, that she focused on what else lay on her nightstand: her phone. 

And really, she might not have paid it much attention at all if it hadn’t been for the text message that abruptly lit up the screen. 

**Rose: I mean I love his idiot ass BUT**

For a handful of seconds Rey considered leaving her phone where it was. Walking away, getting married, tumbling her husband onto the first bed they came to and forgetting the entire world for at least another day- and then she picked it up, entering her code with impatient movements. Seventy-three text messages, nine voice-mails, and seventeen missed calls. Most from Rose and Finn- the earlier ones clearly written under the influence of painkillers- a handful from Dop and Maz, and a few from Poe. Those had come in roughly twenty-four hours before, and she couldn’t bring herself to check them. Instead, she left the bedroom, taking less joy in the look on Kylo’s face than she wanted and hardly noticing that he had changed into a very becoming suit. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

His heated expression faded to concern as he plucked the phone from her outstretched hand, a tic appearing on his jaw as he examined the lit screen. “I shouldn’t have charged it,” he muttered, and she choked out an unsteady laugh.

“This day is for us.”

Kylo looked up, free hand reaching out to stroke her hair. “It is. Our marriage is just for us, and not for anyone else.” 

“I don’t-”

Rey stopped, closing her eyes as she tried to order her jumbled thoughts. “If we… if we contact them we’ll lose the day, and there might be yelling, and-”

And she was shaking, and maybe her reaction was more born from the general trauma of the past week than her friends themselves, but Rey couldn’t quite separate the two. Not yet.

Carefully, she retrieved the phone and placed it on the kitchen countertop, taking in deep breaths. “Can we stay at the hotel tonight?”

“As long as you want.” 

“Just one night.” She took his hands in her own. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.” He bent toward her. “I don’t want you to have any regrets, Rey.”

Knowing he was right, she took stock of herself. There was sadness, there, and a kind of regret that was inevitable, but both were overshadowed by love and certainty. “We’re better together,” Rey told him firmly, steadying. “Marry me? Before all else, marry me.”

“I will.” He kissed her palms, lips warm and soft against her skin. “Happily.”

They left the apartment hand in hand, his scarf wrapped cozily around her neck.

\- - -

They had no issues at the registrar’s office. License tucked in the inner pocket of Kylo’s coat, they made the short walk to the courthouse in search of a magistrate. 

“She should be there for an hour more,” Kylo murmured, shortening his steps to match hers. “There’s a slot free in twenty minutes.”

Rey shot him an amused look. “Please tell me you didn’t just steal someone else’s appointment.”

“I did not.” He smiled a little, squeezing her hand. “It was open before I checked, and now it’s reserved for us.”

“Good.” The entrance came into view. Even with security, they would be on time. “Good.”

It was simple, the ceremony. Rey barely remembered the flippant, one-sided vows she had made weeks before, and didn’t expect to find the standard formula particularly affecting (the outcome, she thought, was the important part, not the process)- but then Magistrate Holdo looked to Kylo with a kindly spoken “Repeat after me,” and her breath caught in her throat. 

Because she would be receiving vows, this time. Because in Kylo’s deep voice the promise to love and to cherish didn’t sound rote or perfunctory but absolute and fresh, as if they had never been spoken before in the history of time and would never be spoken again. Rey only hoped, as she spoke the same words, to offer some measure of that feeling to him in return.

Two gold bands, a kiss, and a handful of signatures later, they were wed. 

“Again,” Kylo murmured in her ear as the magistrate gave the executed license one last check. 

Rey grinned, nestling under his arm, her reply equally soft. “And for the last time.”

Later- the license dropped off, the door to their suite locked, Kylo’s hands under her rucked-up skirt- he pulled back from leaving a mark on her neck to say breathlessly, “I, uh, added something inside the rings.”

It took her moment to understand what he was saying, given that his fingers were still stroking her intimately over the fabric of her underwear. “What?”

“Check your ring.”

Fumbling to slip off the gold band, she squinted at the elegant engraving on the inner surface, turning it in her fingers until she had read the almost impossibly small words. His fingers stilled, and when Rey looked up she found Kylo watching her carefully. “I’ve always liked the phrase,” he whispered. “And it’s true.”

Rey slid the ring back on, feeling a rush of joy that tingled to her very fingertips. Pulling her husband close, she brushed a kiss over the corner of his mouth. “It is true.”

In a spill of early-afternoon light they consummated their second marriage, each touch sure and sweet, and in the aftermath Kylo murmured the same words engraved on their rings into her hair with a tone that was almost awestruck: “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.”


	19. poplar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Sorry for the delay- a shell (a home) just could not be contained.

_Art,_ Rey thought with sleepy satisfaction on waking, mouth curling into a slow smile as she examined as much of her husband as she could without lifting her head. Every inch of him was delightful to her eyes, and when he was fast asleep- as he was now, chest rising and falling slowly- he looked so vulnerable it pulled at her heart. It was tempting to reach out, to stroke him as she might a slumbering cat, but she held back. Let him sleep, let him have this first truly safe morning. 

And then she rolled carefully away, intending to sneak off to the bathroom, only to have an arm snag around her waist. 

“Where are you going?” Lethargic and deep, the words spoken directly against the skin of her shoulder with a nuzzle. “I could feel the weight of your gaze, wife.”

“An admiring one.” She squirmed against his grip, not at all displeased but- annoyingly- actually needing the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He muttered something but let her go, and when she was on her feet she looked back to see him half on her pillow, dark hair spread over white linen and eyes on her- or on her ass, specifically. His left hand, bearing its band of gold, lay on the comforter. “Rey?”

“Hmmm?”

“You’ll come back?”

There was that vulnerability again, limned with heat. “I’ll be back.”

Kylo was waiting at the bathroom door when she left, comfortable and breath newly fresh, and he slipped past her with a slide of his hand down her side. “Wait for me?”

And she did, but when he returned there was no seduction, no sly caresses. He settled with his head over her heart, nose nudging against the curve of one breast. “I’m okay,” she murmured, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I know.” He sighed a little, seeming to breathe her in. “I just like listening to my favorite heartbeat.”

So they lay there, drowsy in the sunbeams slipping through the gap in the curtains- and when his hand eventually slipped between her thighs, gentle and questing, she happily pulled him up into a kiss that signaled _yes._

\- - -

**Rose: Did you pay our medical bills?**

**Because when we left the hospital our balance was zero**

**And our insurance is not that good**

**Rey?**

Rey scrolled through the flurry of messages, biting her lower lip. 

**Finn: Reyrey **

**Peanut what the hell happened**

“Are you hungry?” 

Rey blinked, turning in her seat to look up at Kylo, who stood behind the couch. He touched her hair gently, bending toward her. “Can I get you anything?”

“No.” She leaned her head against the couch cushions, extending a hand palm up in an invitation that he quickly accepted. “I’m just… just preparing to make first contact.”

“How do you want to do it?” No hesitation, no argument- just her tree, ready to stand with her. 

“In person, I think.” She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the feel of his fingertips brushing over the pulse-point on her inner wrist. “Better than hashing it out one text at a time.”

“Today?”

It was still early afternoon. There was no reason to put it off, as much as she was tempted to shake her head and ask him to join her for a nap. “Today,” she said quietly. “If they’re free.”

And when she sent Rose a short, simple text asking if they were up for visitors, within seconds she received an answering **YES.**

\- - -

“Do you ever think about going camping again?”

The question came out of nowhere as he drove through crowded city streets, Rey’s idly drumming fingers stopping mid-flow. “I don’t know.” Her mouth crooked into a smile as she turned away from the passing scenery. “I think I hit the jackpot on round one. Not sure what else the woods could offer me other than bug bites.”

Kylo laughed quietly, hands steady on the wheel. “Maybe I want to revisit our first morning together.”

“What part? When I accused you of being a perverted stalker?”

“The naked-in-a-tent part.”

“Oh, _that_ part.” She grinned, thinking on his sleepy-eyed self curled up in a sleeping bag. “It’s possible I could be convinced to wander into the woods with that as my prize, when we’re closer to summer… but nowhere near Chandrila.”

“At least an hour in the opposite direction,” he said immediately, and his voice dropped to a coaxing murmur. “We could… pretend.”

Rey wasn’t entirely sure if this was a bid to distract her, or if he really was hoping to role-play a different version of the morning after their first wedding, but either way she was intrigued- and, admittedly, turned on by the prospect. “And what will the naked stranger do with his new bride?”

Kylo cast her a quick look while they were stopped at a red light, taking in the way she leaned toward him, a slight smile on her lips. “He wouldn’t want to scare her.”

“I think,” she replied thoughtfully, “that he could take whatever he wanted, if he were gentle.”

Kylo was quiet for a moment, fingers clenching around the steering wheel. “I look forward to claiming my wife, then, in the woods,” he said finally, sounding pleased and anticipatory, and she knew that at least some of that pleasure stemmed from her own interest in the game.

“Did you want to, that morning?”

“I wouldn’t have dared.” His answer was immediate. “Though in retrospect I realize that sleeping beside you naked was… ill-advised. I wasn’t thinking very clearly; the shock of relief and freedom went to my head, a little.” He paused briefly, then admitted, “I wanted you, though. I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

“Well, now you have me.” They were turning into the parking lot, a sight that caused a resurgence of nerves. “And you’ll get to wake up beside me for many, many mornings to come.”

After parking, after turning off the car, he held the key in the palm of one hand, expression serious. “It isn’t too late to turn back.”

“It isn’t, but…”

“But you won’t let yourself,” he finished when she trailed off. “My brave wife.”

“Not so much brave as needing to get this over with.” 

It had been easy to be brave, Rey thought, when faced with Snoke and possible death. Something about facing her friends made her quail. “Keep the glaring to a minimum, okay? I don’t need you glowering, even if I do enjoy the way it makes you look like some kind of dark prince.”

Kylo appeared to be repressing a smile. “Sweetheart, if Poe tries to make you cry again I’ll glare at whomever I please.”

“If Poe tries to make me cry again I’m going to start screaming at him.”

Rey wasn’t sure she would be able to help it. Jittery she might be, but he wouldn’t be catching her fresh from a serious scare, today, on the verge of making a sacrifice- she was heart-whole and secure, if emotionally bruised. _I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine,_ she found herself thinking, and buoyed by the thought stepped out of the car. 

But- as the elevator dinged past each floor, as they stood in impatient wait- her hand slipped into his, fingers twining. “I’m going to make you duck, tonight,” he said conversationally, as if they were facing only a simple walk in the park. “With potatoes and carrots roasted in duck fat, the best champagne I can conjure from thin air, and…”

Kylo glanced at her as they stepped out onto the proper floor, gaze serious. “What do you want for dessert?”

Her palms were clammy, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Sex.”

“You don’t want anything before that?”

“Surprise me.”

As the deadbolt snapped open she found herself squeezing Kylo’s hand with an intensity probably best reserved for childbirth. When he lifted their clasped hands, pressing his lips to her curled fingers, she exhaled a shuddering breath. 

The door swung open, and there Poe was: arm still in a sling, shadows under his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Oddly, she wanted to hug him. He was looking at her, at both of them as if he had been dreading this moment for days, and had resigned himself to a less-than-kind greeting- but before Rey could decide exactly how to act on that information he blurted out “I’m sorry.”

Just two words, but they held a wealth of misery. “What I said was cruel. It was inexcusable,” he continued before either of them could say anything, running one shaking hand through his hair. Somehow he looked more broken standing in that doorway than he had in the hospital. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Any of it.”

“Poe-”

“I keep trying to process the whole night and I can’t; everything is just… just sharp, jumbled pieces.” He uttered a brief, disjointed laugh. “My therapist will never believe the real story.”

He had been the only one to remain conscious after the wreck, Rey knew. The one to call for an ambulance while injured himself, the one who had to wait for help with Rose and Finn unresponsive inside crumpled metal. Had he slept at all, since then, or had nightmares plagued him too badly to do more than catnap?

_Guilt has a way of building up, when you let it._ Too much time to think, too much worry, and here he stood with none of his usual swagger or charm, shaken and lost. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Kylo asked with unexpected gentleness, and Poe blinked at him as if it were a question posed in a never before heard language. 

“What?”

“Food.” Kylo let go of Rey’s hand. “Calories.”

“Uh-”

“Let me take a look around your kitchen.”

Poe watched him go, still looking perplexed, and nearly jumped when Rey put a hand on his uninjured arm. “We’ve all had a shit week,” she told him, throat tight. “It’s okay.”

“It’s really not,” he whispered, and she shook her head. 

“It will be.”

After a long moment he nodded once, slowly.

When she stepped forward to wrap him in a hug, he left her shoulder damp with tears.

\- - -

“You know you didn’t have to do this, right?” Rose asked from her spot on one end of the couch, waving the paid-in-full statement she had received from the hospital in the air with a wince. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a relief, but also not your responsibility.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kylo said, avoiding her gaze as he set a platter with fruit, cheese, and baguette on the coffee table- none of which, Rey thought, had likely been in their kitchen to begin with.

“So some other mysterious benefactor paid this five-figure bill?”

“Must have,” Rey chimed in, grabbing a piece of bread as she similarly avoided Rose’s eyes. “Weird.”

_It is our responsibility,_ she wanted to say, taking a large bite to keep the words unspoken. _Anything demonic is kind of our purview._

“Guys, be serious.”

Kylo settled on the floor at Rey’s feet and popped a grape into his mouth without answering. Rose gave them both a narrow-eyed look as Poe- still tired, but looking less shadowed- layered thinly-sliced robusto cheese onto bread for a sleepy, fresh-from-a-nap Finn. 

“I still haven’t gotten a hug from you.” Rose dropped the papers carelessly to the floor and pointed a finger at Kylo. “Mr. ‘My Money Definitely Didn’t Pay For Your Bad Hospital Food’.”

Finn chuckled, nestling back into his pillows. He was, Rey suspected, still on actual painkillers- but he had been through surgery, and was arguably the worst injured of the three. “She’s not going to drop it,” he said lazily, scrutinizing the proffered snack as if he had never seen bread and cheese before. “Rosie has examined every damn line of that bill.”

“They practically charge per square of toilet paper,” she grumbled. “I want a hug.”

And Kylo- after Rey ran her fingers through his hair in encouragement- got up and knelt beside Rose’s spot on the couch. “How are your ribs?”

“Not an excuse to get out of a hug.”

He was careful, when he wrapped his arms around her, and Rose rolled her eyes fondly as she patted his back. “It hasn’t escaped my notice that my injuries were originally thought much worse than they turned out to be.”

Kylo pulled back, expression bland. “Is that so?”

“You’re not as good a liar as you think.”

“Hmm.”

“And shit was clearly going down with you and Rey while you were incommunicado.” Rose cast Finn an indulgent if annoyed glance when he snorted. “When Dop finally showed up he wore the serene, slightly crazed smile of a man who has been dragged through hell, so I’m guessing he was involved, too.”

Kylo resumed his former spot, exchanging a quick look with Rey as he did so. “Stuff happened,” Rey said after some thought, touching the moonstone ring she wore on her right hand absently. “Just… stuff.”

“Stuff,” Rose repeated doubtfully. “Like, ‘could be mistaken as a found footage Exorcist sequel’ kind of stuff?”

“Something like that.” They would tell them someday, Rey was sure, but not yet. When everyone was healthy and settled, and the sharp edges of the experience had dulled with the passage of time- then, and only then, would they sit down to relate the actual details. 

Because this could still go sour. She acknowledged that fact reluctantly, fingertips ghosting over Kylo’s shoulder in a jittery movement. The peace between them all was a tentative, fragile thing that could be strengthened as easily as it could be broken. 

Finn, eyelids drooping, glanced to Kylo and then Rey, bread half-eaten in one hand. “So that was a demon, then? In the road?”

“Yeah.” Rey steeled herself, resisting the urge to duck her head. “Probably.”

“Dead now, though?”

She could still- in an odd, phantom kind of way- remember how that ash had felt against her skin. “Dead as a demon can get.”

He nodded, smiling when Poe’s hand passed over his hair, and at the other end of the couch Rose bit into a strawberry with the air of someone (temporarily, barely) satisfied. “Good enough.”

\- - -

“It was a good start,” Kylo murmured in the dark of their bedroom, toying gently with the fingers of her left hand. “Don’t you think?”

“Better than I expected.” She snuggled back into his hold, leaving her hand relaxed, and quietly admitted, “I’m still scared.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss against her hair, thumb slipping between two of her fingers to rub against her wedding band. “We can only move on.”

“I know.”

“And I’m here. No matter what happens.”

Rey found herself smiling despite the trickle of tears dampening her pillow. “I no longer doubt that.”

He sounded deeply pleased when he responded. “Good.” A nuzzle against her hair, a satisfied hum. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There were no nightmares, that night- just soft dreams, and peace.

\- - -

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise.”

Rey crossed her arms over her chest, casting a look of faux-annoyance in his direction. “Am I at least dressed appropriately for this surprise?”

“I’m planning on conjuring the ballgown when we’re actually on site.”

“_Kylo._”

He chuckled. “You’re perfect, Rey.”

She had the sense that he was talking about more than just her outfit, and felt her cheeks heat with a blush- but before she could respond, they turned onto a paved private drive. Realization sparked inside of her as they wound through woods, her arms unfolding as she leaned forward to gaze ahead. 

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he said quietly as they rounded one last bend, the press of trees on either side of the road opening up to reveal the spread of lawn and garden and gray-stoned house. “I looked at so many houses, so many plots of land, but I kept seeing you studying on a couch in front of the living room fireplace. I could see myself making breakfast in that kitchen. I looked up modern canning techniques to make the most of every piece of fruit from that orchard.”

She hiccuped a surprised laugh. “Are we going to give away apple butter as Christmas presents? Overload Maz with excess zucchini?”

“I was thinking pear preserves, but otherwise yes to both.”

A woman in a well-tailored suit waited on the front porch as they parked, projecting an air of professional patience.

“We may still hate it,” Kylo said, turning toward Rey in his seat. “And if you have even the slightest of reservations, we leave and keep looking.”

“You, uh, didn’t use any magic to keep this place on the market, did you?” Rey asked, not quite joking. 

He smiled, not even a hint of annoyance at the question in his gaze. “That would have been cheating- and no, I didn’t. It’s just priced for more than it’s technically worth.”

“Okay.” She flashed him a hopeful smile. “Let’s go see.”

And she saw- saw the way light slanted through the windows, catching dust motes dancing in the air; saw the glow of well-preserved hardwood and the fading remnants of a child’s growth recorded on a wall just inside the kitchen door. _Cassie,_ neat cursive proclaimed. Cassie had been nearly Rey’s own height when the last mark had been made. 

“Is it weird that I’m not sure I’d be able to paint over that?” Rey asked as they lingered in the kitchen, the realtor waiting in the hall. 

Kylo embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You like it?”

She overlapped his hands with hers, considering the marks and their accompanying ages. “It’s just… nice. This house feels _warm._ Content. Like they were happy here, for every year that they added to that chart.”

He brushed a gentle kiss against her neck, hugging her a little closer. “I think that’s a good reason to keep it, then. For as long as you want.”

_And maybe,_ she thought, gaze slipping to the blank wall on the other side of the door, _add another. Someday._

“There’s just one problem,” she said after the tour was done and they were strolling through the dormant garden, hand in hand. “With this plan of yours.”

“What’s that?”

“I hate zucchini.” When he stopped walking, looking down at her with the beginnings of a smile, she added teasingly, “Would that be a deal-breaker?”

Kylo pulled her into his arms with a whole-hearted grin, head bending toward hers. “Not in the slightest.”

He kissed her there, beside the bed where lavender and chamomile would grow come summer.

The first time in that spot, but not- Rey knew, and knew instinctively- the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue and we're done. 😉


	20. epilogue: hazel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos and recs- I'm so glad you've enjoyed this fic, because I've loved writing it.

_seedling_

They settled into the house with ease, adapting routines and creating new ones with a pleasure that Rey, at least, hadn’t expected. It was lovely to wake in their new bedroom, lovely to wrap herself in a thick robe and slip on cozy slippers before making her yawning way down the stairs, lovely to watch Kylo in a kitchen fit for both his size and skill. Lovely to balance her fledgling degree work with a scaled-back shift schedule and time at home, lovely to carefully rebuild their relationships with Rose and Finn and Poe and know that the fractures between them healed even as bodies did.

And still Kylo asked “Are you happy?” one morning as snow fell outside the windows, layering thickly enough that schools all over the county- including Rey’s own college- had canceled classes. 

“Do I not look it?” She grinned at him from her blanket nest on the couch, a book open on her lap. “I’m sitting in my own home, with my own handsome husband in view, luxuriating in a lazy snow day while a fire burns on the hearth. I might even indulge in spiked hot chocolate later.”

“I like checking.” He slipped a hand under the blankets, finding one of her feet and pulling it onto his lap. “I’m often so ridiculously happy that I have to take a moment to steady myself,” Kylo added as he stripped off her sock and began to massage her foot. “Remember that it won’t suddenly go away.”

She didn’t bother trying to repress her groan when his thumb pressed _just_ so against her arch. “We fought for this, and we deserve it.” Slipping a bookmark into place, she let the volume fall shut. “And that feels very, very nice.”

“Well, you have very pretty feet.” The smile that crept over his face held mischief. “Though they are, perhaps, lacking something.”

“Hmm?”

He produced a small gold ring and proceeded to slip it on one of her toes, grinning when she snorted. “I’m branching out.”

“I expect nothing less from my tree.” She wiggled her toes, laughing when she realized that diamond chips were embedded in the gold. “I’ll have to find another bowl just for my toe rings.”

“Do you want to start organizing them?” He resumed massaging her foot after a brief tickle to her arch. “Your other collection is threatening to overflow.”

“I enjoy allowing fate to choose my adornments, most mornings. Maybe I’ll steal one of your giant mixing bowls and keep that beside the bed.”

“That would certainly enhance the bedroom’s decor.” 

She considered him for a moment, turning her wedding band in slow circles. “Do you know what else would enhance the decor?”

“What?”

“A cat.”

He didn’t pause in his work, nor did he frown, but he did reply teasingly, “Do I not fulfill all your cuddling needs?”

“Quite gallantly,” she assured him. “I’ve just always wanted a cat. Maybe even two, if we find a bonded pair.”

Kylo gave her a long look, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “And does the local shelter have a bonded pair advertised online, sweetheart?”

“Perhaps.”

Most definitely, actually.

He looked down at the foot he held, brushing his thumb over the band of gold. “Then if the roads are clear on Saturday, perhaps we’ll go take a look.”

They brought home Juniper and Acacia, and were never again without at least one cat snoozing in a puddle of sunlight or sprawled in front of the lit fireplace.

_sapling_

The feel of dirt under her hands, of sunlight warming her back- gardening, as it turned out, was just as attractive a subject as history. That had been true their first summer in the house, and was just as true the fifth. 

“Keep growing,” Rey murmured to the twining vines as she pulled weeds. “Aren’t you pretty? Soon you’ll be peas, and I’ll eat you on a salad.”

With whatever she could find in the fridge, dumped in a bowl, whereas if Kylo had charge of the meal he would present something both artful and delicious. She loved him for it, and smiled as she thought of tomato roses and carrot curls, of fresh peas and chopped radicchio, of homemade dressings thick with herbs. His well-thumbed copy of _The Flavor Bible_ and the time he had spent in culinary school had never led him astray.

And there he was, her husband, strolling side by side down the garden path with a cherished family friend. 

“My two favorite exorcists,” she teased as they drew closer. “Did you bring me a drink?”

Kylo held a glass of wine in one hand and lavender lemonade in the other, and set both on a sturdy table before helping Rey to her feet. “You should take a nap,” he said, steering her gently toward a nearby bench.

“He’s very protective,” she told Dop dryly as she sat, taking off her floppy straw hat and accepting the offered lemonade. 

“Kylo? Protective?” He gave her a quizzical look rife with humor, his own wine in hand. “Are we speaking of the same man?”

“Very funny.”

“What are you growing, this year?”

She indulged his prevaricating response, gesturing at plants in turn. “Peas, tomatoes, cucumbers… the usual herbs, and lettuces over there, and potatoes.”

As well as a dozen other things, and the roses in the front yard, and the orchard bearing fruit. 

And rampion.

(“A little on the nose,” Kylo had said when she bought the seeds and admitted to a craving. “If a witch shows up in our garden, I’m spiriting you away to some distant and unreachable tower.”

“Following the fairy tale, are we?”

He had given her a loving if concerned look, one hand curving over her as yet relatively flat abdomen. “Indulge me, sweetheart.”)

Rey patted her bulging stomach, smiling. “And this little sprout, of course.”

Who would _not_ be named Rapunzel, even if she occasionally threatened (teasingly) to do so.

“I promised the usual assortment of preserves for the church auction.” Kylo sat beside her as Dop claimed the neighboring chair. “Which continue to be a popular item, apparently,” he added in an innocent tone. 

Dop rolled his eyes. “You swore there wasn’t any magic in those.”

Rey leaned into Kylo’s side, nestling under his arm. “Just skill and human talent.”

“As long as the Vatican never asks otherwise,” Dop said after a sip, casting them a sly glance. “It was just a coincidence, then, that Jane McCray’s cancer disappeared last year after purchasing the lot?”

Rey looked up at Kylo just in time to see him firm his jaw. “Maybe little bit of well-wishing,” he muttered.

“Uh-huh.” Dop kept his seat, every inch of him- and the lack of a collar- proclaiming him genuinely relaxed. “Just keep me off the radar, okay? I _like_ being a shepherd. I enjoy tending to my flock and all of those pastoral metaphors. I also really like those pear preserves you make where the sugar tastes like créme brulée crust, but that’s kind of beside the point.”

“Yes to preserves, no to miracles; got it,” Rey said cheerfully, patting Kylo’s knee. “Love?”

“I believe I can restrain myself.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, cuddling her close. “Dop’s staying for dinner.”

“Good.” 

“And Maz called to let me know that she planned to drop off a pie, so I set another place for her.”

“Even better.” 

“Then Rose texted me to schedule our next game night, so…”

“So a full table, then.” And Rey- who had spent so many years longing for just that- kissed him on the cheek. “Perfect.”

_mature_

It happened exactly as she had expected, and in a manner so natural that it couldn’t be mistaken for artifice: Kylo aged. So did she, but that had never been in doubt.

“Do you like the gray?” he asked one evening before bed, the low thump of music still audible from Hazel’s room. “Because I could do something about that.”

“Don’t you dare.” He was so damned handsome that it still took her breath away, at times, and the silver strands gilding his dark hair just added to the attraction. Rising to her toes, she planted a kiss on his mouth. “My surprisingly vain human husband.”

There was a flash of amusement in his eyes, but his expression was serious when he replied, “Except for that one part.”

“Except for that.” 

He took her hands, his fingers twining with her be-ringed ones, and all thoughts of wandering down the hall and reminding their daughter to turn down her music faded away. “Come to bed with me, wife?”

“Happily.” Another kiss, one that lingered, and then she favored him with a brilliant grin. “I’m in the mood to climb a tree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey's pregnancy craving was just coincidental; I promise that no one supernatural or otherwise came for their baby. 😉


End file.
